


Two Of Us

by Lily_Padd_23, supernatural_mondler (starzinoureyes)



Category: The West Wing
Genre: 1980s, Angst, Boys In Love, Environmental Politics, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Explicit Sex, One Year, POV Alternating, Period-Typical Homophobia, Politics, Pre-Canon, Repression, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 83,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Padd_23/pseuds/Lily_Padd_23, https://archiveofourown.org/users/starzinoureyes/pseuds/supernatural_mondler
Summary: The beginnings of Sam/Josh.Sam liked to think of himself as the kind of person who could learn from his mistakes.  He liked to think of himself as someone who could accept criticism and incorporate it into what he was doing, as someone who could take a hint.  But here he was, again, throwing himself headfirst into something with no exist strategy.Josh had been in D.C. for a few years and was known pretty much universally in Washington as one of the brightest young staffers.  Yet somehow, he felt like he should be doing more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We do not own these characters or any other West Wing creative property. This is simply an act of love (and projection) onto our favorite characters. 
> 
> The title comes from The Beatles song of the same name.
> 
> For this story, Lily_Padd_23 wrote Sam’s chapters and supernatural_mondler wrote Josh’s. That said, we planned, plotted, schemed, brainstormed, added details, and edited together, so we both take credit for it in its entirety. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> -LP and SM

**SAM**

“That is your problem, Sam,” Dr. Knight had told him, “You still haven’t learned how to distinguish the signal from the noise.”

Sam hadn’t really known what she meant, but he’d figured out that it had something to do with priorities: with reading so much into the things that didn’t matter that he missed the point. It was his senior year, and he’d been so flustered about his poor grade that he was having a hard time taking in her words as she proceeded to lecture him about how he was letting case studies sidetrack him from proving his hypothesis. He kept opening his mouth to try and say something like, “The case studies _ matter. _ Real people _ matter,” _ but he never quite formulated the words. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard this particular criticism. It was a common theme with his mom and even a few of the more observant high school teachers. After class his Freshman year at Princeton, one particularly sweet English professor had quietly slipped a copy of Samuel Scudder’s _ Learning to See_, a story about a budding zoologist who had to be taught how to focus on what mattered through hours of looking at a dead fish. 

Sam liked to think of himself as the kind of person who could learn from his mistakes. He liked to think of himself as someone who could accept criticism and incorporate it into what he was doing, as someone who could take a hint. So it probably should have been a red flag that all day today, he couldn’t get the quote from the story, “look at your fish,” out of his head. But here he was, again, throwing himself headfirst into something with no exist strategy besides seeing it through. Which was looking less as less possible, and only made him less inclined to drop it. 

This was a nothing assignment, if he could call it an assignment. They were putting together a floor speech for the Congresswoman on an upcoming bill about establishing a New Mexico state park as a National Preserve. It was a no-brainer that was going to pass with flying colors, but as the second most senior member of the House Natural Resources Committee, the Congresswoman would be speaking about the bill a lot, so they were throwing together some remarks. As they were finishing up, the communications director had made an offhand comment like, “Oh, we should add some stats on wildlife protection,” right when they were leaving the meeting, “You know, cute animals or something.”

Sam happened to volunteer before anyone else, because he was always the first to volunteer. All he should’ve done was pull some numbers on endangered animals in the relevant region, verify them, and put a little shine on them for the speech. But by the end of the day, he had done enough reading to become emotionally invested in the fate of a particular species of crane that was losing habitat at an alarming rate, yet was not on the endangered species list. So rather than add the required stats into the remarks, he’d spent the afternoon flitting around trying to convince his coworkers that the Congresswoman ought to say something about protecting the Sandhill Cranes of New Mexico.

“That’s small potatoes, Sam,” the Congresswoman’s Chief of Staff had said.

So he was poring over data about habitat loss and hunting threats and the criteria an animal had to meet in order to be considered for protection under the Endangered Species Act. All the while, as each person he talked to told him to drop it, the words from the story echoed. _ Look at your fish, Sam. _ He knew he was derailed. He couldn’t pinpoint why this mattered to him, but it did. It really did.

Perhaps it was because he had been feeling a little aimless since arriving in D.C. He had put off law school to come work for a Congresswoman he thought had the potential to be the first female President someday. After many late night arguments with his dad, he had put the practical route on hold to follow his desire to make a difference. But he found that being a congressional aide gave him very little access to the making a difference part and was much more about getting things in order for those who were helping the people who were making a difference. Everything he’d done felt either too small to matter in the grand scheme of things— like organizing files and returning phone calls— or too huge for him to ever see the difference it was making— like doing extensive research and writing for an issue that would take twenty years to materialize. 

In hindsight, that was probably why he couldn’t let go of this particular fixation. It was small enough to be achievable, but significant enough to have a tangible effect. He could look back and say that he got enhanced government protection for a vulnerable species that played a vital role in the ecosystem. That would be making a difference. Well, something would be different in part because of him, anyway. 

As he left that evening, he poked his head into the Congresswoman’s office, a pile of reports he’d been reading meticulously stacked in his hands. 

“Congresswoman Levy?” he asked, balancing his papers precariously to tap on her door and announce his presence, “Do you have _ two _ minutes?”

“Never!” she said lightheartedly, removing her glasses and looking up at him from her desk, “But what do you need?”

“You know how you’re always telling us there are no stupid ideas just stupid explanations?” he stepped further into her office.

“Sure,” she nodded.

“Well,” he took a breath to harness more confidence than he was feeling, “I think that you should attach a rider on the Winding Rock National Preserve Bill to grant endangered species status to New Mexico’s sandhill cranes.”

The Congresswoman looked down at her desk with a warm, knowing smile as if someone had told her to expect his barging in and saying just that. Someone probably had. She cleared her throat and tucked a lock of her graying brunette hair behind her ear. Sam watched her from behind his glasses, unable to gauge what she would say next. When she did speak, she looked back up at him and said, “Sam, there are a lot of smart conservationists who know a lot more about this stuff than I do who are paid good money to make these decisions. My job is to follow their lead, not the other way around.” 

“But, ma’am, if you would just read some of this literature…” he fumbled through the articles in his arms.

“Sam?” she said sympathetically, “This isn’t my fight.” 

_ Look at your fish, Sam. _He was torn between listening to the voice in his head telling him to abandon this altogether and the drive to see it through as she put her glasses back on and returned to the papers spread out in front of her.

“Ma’am, what would it take to convince you otherwise?” he heard himself asking before he had decided that’s what he was going to say. 

She chuckled but didn’t look up from her work, “Not my circus, not my monkeys,” she said. Another one of her little sayings, “Or should I say not my circus, not my storks.”

“They’re cranes,” Sam said, “And they have an _ incredible _ impact on the entirety of the local environment along their migratory route. Protecting them means protecting the whole ecosystem.”

“I’m not saying protecting the cranes is a stupid idea, Sam,” she flipped a page of the huge binder before her, “I’m just saying introducing such specific legislation to an airtight bill that will protect the natural resources of the Winding Rock Park is a stupid idea. People will start piling on their own agendas, and we won’t get the preserve at all. I’ll support it if it comes to me through the appropriate channel, but this isn’t it.” 

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but instead found himself saying, “Yes ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am,” and retreating from her office with a dejected sigh.

He had every intention of getting home, making himself a quick dinner, and going to sleep. Instead, he stayed up all night in with the reports and articles he’d printed off strewn across his bed. Sitting in the middle of the bed in a grey Princeton sweatshirt, glasses, and boxers, he compiled fastidious notes in a big red binder labeled “Operation Sandhill.” Congresswoman Levy may have rejected his idea to attach a rider, but her final comments had only reinforced his certainty that there was _ something _ he could do about this. 

He scoured through EPA documents, environmentalist catalogues, past bills on wildlife protection, and plans on the enforcement of the Endangered Species Act. He tore into reports from New Mexico’s wildlife refuges filled with tracking data on flocks of cranes and how their migratory patterns were being disrupted by development. It was all very important, very official stuff with fascinating findings and illuminating statistics. However, the article he kept coming back to was the one that at first seemed the least consequential. It was essentially a puff piece from a college newspaper that didn’t really circulate off campus, but it had come up towards the bottom of his search when he’d looked for articles with the terms “Congress” and “Endangered Species Act.” For Earth Day last year, the newspaper had interviewed Congressional staffers on environmental policies. Most of them talked about funding research on global warming and decreasing pollution. Others discussed the importance of solar energy, setting aside more protected lands, and saving the whales. 

But the quote that he found himself highlighting, underlining, circling, and writing on a sticky note for his binder was something a staffer from the House Minority Whip’s office said at the end of the piece. It read: _ “Talking about how to save the planet is great and all, but nothing’s going to change until we are all on the same page. Do you know how hard it was to get even the smallest fraction of the budget to go towards green projects? Or how long it takes to get an animal on the Endangered Species list? Checks and balances are necessary for our Democracy, but as long as we have elected officials who fail to see the urgency of this stuff, environmental policy is just going to be a game of ping-pong. So in my book, the best thing we can do for the planet is vote for people who see solving these problems as a prime concern. Otherwise, the system will always fail to do anything more than the bare minimum for the environment.” _

The third time he read the quote, it flipped a light bulb in his brain and he began frantically scribbling down his inspiration in the pages of his binder. There was someone in the building who wanted to see the system changed to make it easier to protect vulnerable wildlife. Or at least, someone who acknowledged that it was too difficult. 

“Maybe _ that’s _ what this is about,” he whispered to himself. If he could just talk to this guy, maybe he could put a bug in the ear of the Whip. This guy had more sway than he did with someone more influential than Congresswoman Levy. Maybe they could convince their bosses to introduce legislation to make this one thing— this one little thing that could have such a big impact on so many ecosystems— just a little bit easier. If it came from the Whip, if it came as a separate issue from the National Preserve, certainly Congresswoman Levy would be _ eager _ to make this her fight.

So he didn’t have all the answers. He wasn’t sure exactly how they would make the process more efficient or what changes would be necessary to do so. But for the first time since he started down this rabbit hole, he didn’t feel like he was missing the point anymore. “Look at your fish” was no longer ringing in his brain. He’d gotten to the big picture, to the heart of the thing, to what mattered. The thing with the cranes was important, yes, but the cranes were not the point. The thing with the cranes was leading him to the point. The point was that he was going to help make it easier to protect wildlife. And he was going to start by tracking down the guy who gave this quote. Yes, he was going to start by tracking down the legislative assistant for the House Minority Whip, Joshua Lyman. 

The thing with the cranes was leading him to the point. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time to meet Josh!

**JOSH**

If you had asked Josh ten years ago what he thought he would be doing with his life, he would not have said this.

Okay, that’s not entirely true, much of his job was exactly what he had set out to do when he had made the decision to forgo his place at his father’s firm and pursue politics professionally: putting together legislation, rounding up votes, sometimes helping his boss strategize what bills the party should support and when. What he hadn’t been prepared for was just how tedious some of his work could be.

Josh had been in D.C. for a few years, had a law degree from Yale to back him, and was known pretty much universally in Washington as one of the brightest young staffers. Yet somehow, he felt like he should be doing more.

Today was one of the slow days that Josh detested. They were just coming off a frustrating failed attempt to modify a healthcare bill that would most definitely _ not _make it easier for working families to afford medical care, and Josh was about ready to put his fist through a window because _ nothing was getting done_. So here he sat at his little desk in the corner of Minority Whip Burns’ office feeling pretty defeated, reading up on soybeans or corn or something else equally mind-numbing and wondering how this had become his life.

“You grip that pen any tighter there’s gonna be ink everywhere.”

Josh dropped what he was doing and rubbed a hand down his face.

“_Please _ tell me you have something more substantial for me to do?” he begged, leaning back in his chair so he could look up at his colleague.

“Sorry Josh, I just have the census data on agriculture you asked for,” the congressman’s executive assistant Mia replied, dropping three hefty binders in front of him.

“God, is it still the same day?” Josh groaned, eyeing the binders miserably.

“Why don’t you take a walk or something?” Mia suggested. “Or you could actually take a lunch today.”

“This stuff needs to get done some time,” Josh sighed. He opened the top binder, but she slammed it shut on his hand again. “_Hey _.”

“It’s twelve-thirty, go get a sandwich,” she instructed. “You’ll be able to focus better with some real food in you. You’ve had what, four cups of coffee today already?” Josh just shrugged in response. It was actually more like six, but she didn’t need to know that. “Go.”

“Fine,” Josh agreed. As an afterthought he grabbed one of the binders and tucked it under his arm. “I’m taking this with me though. These reports aren’t going to read themselves.” Mia offered no further protest, so Josh counted it as a win and he collected his things.

There was no shortage of places to eat around the capitol, but it was right in the middle of the lunch rush and Josh had work to do, so he elected to trek only as far as the basement cafeteria for an overcooked burger and soggy fries (and yet another cup of coffee) while he continued to pore over agriculture statistics for a bill that may or may not show up in committee at some point in the future.

He badly needed a win, it seemed like it had been ages since he had felt like he’d really contributed something meaningful. Wasn’t this what interns were for? Or first year staffers so fresh out of law school they were used to spending their lives at the library? Because here Josh was in year three, and sometimes he wondered if he was really doing anything at all.

The food did help him focus—or maybe it was the second (eighth) cup of coffee—because the next thing he knew it was almost two and he was halfway through the binder. He hadn’t meant to stay out so long but the change of scenery seemed to have helped his productivity at the very least. Josh contemplated staying until he finished the materials he had with him, but decided that he had been away from the office long enough, and he needed to make sure no one was looking for him.

“Look who’s back,” Mia greeted as he passed her desk.

“Lost track of time,” Josh returned. “Did the congressman come looking for me?”

“No, but you do have a message from one of Congresswoman Levy’s staffers,” she informed him.

“What does Levy want?” Josh sighed. It usually wasn’t a good sign when they received unexpected calls from mid-ranking congressmen, usually they were either trying to push a bill onto the agenda that had little support and no business being there, or they wanted to complain about a bill that had lots of support but wouldn’t directly benefit their constituents. Sometimes Josh really hated Congress.

“Not Levy, one of her staffers,” Mia clarified. “A Sam Seaborn? Something to do with the National Preserve bill that’s getting ready to leave committee? It didn’t sound like he was calling on behalf of his boss, though.”

“Yes, because wildlife conservation in New Mexico is _ exactly _ what I wanted to work on today,” Josh grumbled. “I’ll get him back later. Do you have the number?”

Mia slid a piece of paper to the front of her desk with what Josh assumed was the message and contact information. He stuffed the note in his pocket and sat back down at his desk. Somehow the stack of reading had almost doubled in the time that he’d been gone, and he shot an alarmed look at Mia, who just shrugged and smiled sadly.

_ You love this _ he had to remind himself. _ You signed up for this, this is what you want to do, and this all comes with it_. With a sigh, he returned to where he had left off in the mess, skimming and scanning and making note of anything that might be useful when it came time to actually getting this particular…_whatever _ it was going to be written. Honestly Josh wasn’t even sure what this was going to turn out to be, nor was he sure why he had been asked to look over these books to begin with. Sometimes he felt like he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

The afternoon was mostly a blur from there. The stack of reading never seemed to get smaller, and every time someone came into the office Josh hoped, _ hoped _ that he would get called into a meeting, or asked to run an errand, or _ anything _ better than this endless, mind-numbing task. But, alas, the congressman had spent the morning in meetings of his own out of the office, and was on the floor for some procedural votes, so Josh was stuck here.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like research. Well, he didn’t. But it was more that he needed a _ vision _. He needed to see that his work was going somewhere, that he was making a difference somehow. Working on getting votes for a healthcare bill? Right up his alley. Reading census data on corn production in Iowa? Not so much. Unfortunately, it seemed like more often than not it was the latter taking up his working hours. 

“Josh! Phone!” Mia called suddenly, and a second later the light on his desk phone flickered.

“Josh Lyman,” he greeted.

“_Mr. Lyman? This is Sam Seaborn. I called earlier and left a message, but I wasn’t sure if I should call again, or— _”

“Yeah, shit, sorry,” Josh rubbed his eyes groggily. He really had meant to call back, but time seemed to lose all structure in this building until suddenly it was…_wow _ almost six o’clock? Now that he thought about it, the office was pretty quiet. “And just Josh is fine. How can I help you?”

“_ was hoping to have your support on something I came across while working on the New Mexico bill._”

“Well…okay, I’ll run it by—”

“_Actually_,” Sam interrupted, “_I was kind of hoping for…_your _ support_.”

“Me?” Josh asked.

“_Yeah, I was doing a little research, and your name came up, and I thought…well, could we grab a drink or something after work some night this week? I’d love to show you what I’ve been working on_.”

“Ummm…okay?” Josh stuttered. “Are you done for the day? I could definitely go for a drink about now.”

“_Perfect! _ _ Hawk’n’Dove__? Half an hour? I can wait for you out front_,” Sam suggested.

“Okay, catch you later then,” Josh agreed and hung up. He took one more look at the pile of binders and loose paper on his desk and pushed his chair back. It would all be here tomorrow.

“I’m off for today Mia,” he tapped on Mia’s desk as he passed, pulling his jacket down from the hook by the door.

“At five-forty-five? What’s the occasion?” she asked with mock surprise.

“Not really sure,” he responded. “I’ll let you know later.”

Part of Josh was convinced that this would just turn out to be another waste of time, but honestly it was better than letting the hours drag by while he read about soybeans. The odds that this Sam guy was genuinely onto something groundbreaking were small, and Josh wasn’t going to try to convince himself otherwise, but even if he did turn out to be completely insane (which, honestly, Josh wasn’t ruling that out, all politicians were a little insane by nature), he could use the distraction.

Either way, at least Josh could get some decent beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, please let us know what you thought!


	3. Chapter 3

**SAM**

Here’s the thing.

Sam had always known he was gay. Not that it was something he ever sat down and contemplated. He kind of didn’t have to. With most things in his life, he spent an unreasonable amount of time on introspection, carefully scrutinizing every thought he had. Only after painful amounts of deliberation would he ever make a claim about himself with any level of certainty. Sam was never a gut instincts kind of guy. He was more of a pros and cons list kind of guy. 

But he never had to question his sexuality. Once he learned what  _ gay _ was, that loving men was a thing men could do, it had just made sense. And honestly? It had never really bothered him. It had never been something that he felt like was a particularly significant part of who he was. It didn’t take up much of his time and energy. 

Throughout his twenty-one years, there had been plenty of girls whom he’d sweetly turned away: gently placing a hand on their shoulders when they’d come in for the kiss, or quietly shaking his head when his prom date asked if this meant they were a couple. On the other hand, he was just emotionally intelligent enough to have noticed a few Princeton classmates who were known to frequent the local gay bars making eyes at him. He usually just ignored that. Sure, he’d indulged in a few dalliances in college, but it never really did it for him. He’d yet to have an experience that he’d prefer to merely staying home with a good book and a glass of wine. 

For the most part, relationships— of a romantic or strictly sexual nature— had not been on his radar. He had enough trouble keeping friends. So he never really stepped up to the plate. Never really felt compelled to. He had happily settled into the daydream of being alone in an old beach house with a huge, dusty library. Or living out of a suitcase and traveling the world. And that didn’t really bother him, either. He liked the idea of being a “confirmed bachelor.” Sex and love and relationships were just so far down on the list of ways he’d choose to spend his time. 

The fact that he was interested in men wasn’t particularly useful information because he’d never really been interested in being with anybody. So that was information that he pretty much kept on the back burner. That is, until he met Josh Lyman.

It was a blink and you miss it moment as he stood clutching his red binder to his chest, in front of the Hawk’n’Dove, pacing in the cool early fall air without realizing it. One second, he was in his head, drafting everything he wanted to say, and the next he was floundering as he slammed into someone with all his weight. A quick apology, a muffled, “Yeah, yeah, just watch where you’re going.” No eye contact, not much of an acknowledgment. But as Sam shifted out of the way, he realized that wasn’t the first time he’d heard that voice.

“Mr. Lyman?” he asked, spinning around. The guy turned and met his gaze with dark brown eyes, wide and tired.

“S’me,” he said, looking Sam up and down, “Sam something, right?”

Sam nodded because that’s all he could do. This isn’t whom he’d been picturing when he’d pored over Josh’s words and listened to his answering machine over and over while trying to catch him. He wasn’t sure whom he’d been picturing, but now, the voice matched the slightly crumpled but no less dazzling guy who stood in front of him, and there was no one else it could have been. 

He swallowed back a lump in his throat and felt his cheeks flush a little, thankful that the sun was setting and the dim lighting outside the bar was splashing shadows across them both. Despite that, he was still able to take in Josh’s striking face, his intense eyes, his strong frame underneath a crinkled trench coat. The light darted over Josh’s long eyelashes every time he blinked, and Sam hoped his glasses were enough of a shield to hide his staring.

“Nice to meet you, Sam,” Josh reached out a hand, and Sam accepted his firm handshake and felt his knees buckle a little. 

“You too, Mr. Lyman,” Sam managed.

“Seriously, Sam, I don’t get paid enough for that level of formality,” Josh smirked, “Call me Josh.”

“Okay, Mr. Lyman,” Sam nodded and quickly corrected himself,  _ “Josh.” _

This earned him a chuckle from Josh, who then gestured to the door and said, “C’mon, let’s go find a table.” 

Josh went through the door, giving it a push behind him so it swung wide enough for Sam to follow in after. Sam’s stomach was spinning knots around itself and his heart was fluttering. He pulled a hand to his chest to try and steady himself, but noticed that his fingers were shaking and his palms were sweaty. He took a deep but faltering breath, muttering to himself, “Well,  _ that’s _ new,” before stepping in after Josh.

They found a small table in a quieter corner. Josh got a beer. Sam got a beer, too. After they ordered, without hesitation, Sam pulled open his binder and jumped right in, “So like I mentioned on the phone, I was doing some research for the Winding Rock National Preserve Bill, and I was quite intrigued by something you said last April about the Endangered Species Act…”

“Hold on,” Josh leaned forward, “You’re giving me whiplash here. How’d we get from a National Preserve in New Mexico to the Endangered Species Act?”

Sam cleared his throat and blinked. Not wanting to admit the origin of this entire discussion was having his heartstrings tugged by pictures of baby birds, he said, “My research was very thorough.”

A killer dimple twinkled across Josh’s cheek, and Sam felt his heart skip a beat. Like they say in books. He’d always thought that was just a turn of phrase. He had never taken it literally.

“Ah… kay…” Josh seemed skeptical, but a half-smile betrayed amusement. Sam wasn’t sure what to make of that, so he set it aside to think about later. 

“I think the processes for getting animals on the Endangered Species List can be streamlined,” Sam said matter-of-factly, “And so do you.”

“I do?”

They paused to nod their thanks to the bartender who brought them their beers. Josh took a swig of his, and Sam rattled out, “Last year you were quoted in the  _ The Hoya _ as having said, ‘Talking about how to save the planet is great and all, but nothing’s going to change until we are all on the same page. Do you know how hard it was to get even the smallest fraction of the budget to go towards green projects? Or how long it takes to get an animal on the Endangered Species list?’” Sam barely even had to look at his notes, having memorized the words inadvertently, “And you went onto say that without politicians who consider ‘solving these problems as a prime concern, the system will always fail to do anything more than the bare minimum for the environment.’”

“That sounds like me,” Josh shrugged. 

“It shouldn’t require all these steps to make sure the ESA is doing what it’s supposed to do!” Sam went on, flipping through his binder, “The petition process alone can take years! And usually the only proposals that make it as far as the coalition are those that go through state boards, which leaves the fate of entire species up to the local leaders of whatever party is in charge.”

Josh tipped back his chair and crossed his arms, “So what are you saying?”

“We should get Congressman Burns to introduce legislation eliminating unnecessary red tape in the ESA,” Sam said, prodding a finger on the pages in front of him for emphasis, “If a species meets the criteria for protection, it should be protected. That simple. It ought to be left  _ entirely _ to the non-partisan coalition. Leave the politics out of it.”

“You think that the Endangered Species Coalition has nothing to do with politics?” Josh raised an eyebrow in such a way that Sam couldn’t quite decide whether it was condescending. “So what happens when all the appointees are Reagan’s anti-environmentalist buddies whose only interaction the Endangered Species Act is to actively work to defund it?” Sam blinked and Josh went on, “When big oil takes over the EPA, we can’t just hand them unchecked power of the Endangered Species List.”

Blinking quickly, Sam recited, “‘Checks and balances are necessary for our Democracy, but as long as we have elected officials who fail to see the urgency of this stuff, environmental policy is just going to be a game of ping-pong.’ What about  _ that?” _

“What  _ about _ that?”

“You said that.”

“Okay,” Josh conceded, “But leaving no buffer between the ESA and the contempt of far right political appointees certainly isn’t a sound solution.”

“So what  _ is _ a sound solution?”

Josh took a long sip of beer, and said through something of a bit of a burp, “Dunno.”

“And you’re  _ satisfied with that?” _ Sam’s voice was getting louder than he realized, he was leaned over the table over-eagerly, and Josh just rocked back, throwing his hands behind his head. 

“Of course not, Sam,” Josh said, “We gotta work with what we have sometimes. But all of this is a work in progress.”

“So let’s  _ progress _ it!” Sam slammed his palm flat on the table this time, causing his untouched beer to jostle a little and Josh to startle enough to drop the feet of his chair back down and stare at Sam.

“You and I?” Josh’s dimple flashed again, “Right here?”

“Why not?” 

A low sigh slipped from Josh’s pursed lips. Sam watched as he looked back and forth between him, the ceiling, the binder before him, his beer, and random points of the wall.

“Okay.”

Yes, Sam had always known that he was gay  _ intellectually. _ But it took crashing into a curly-haired guy with the disheveled tie to register as something beyond strictly theoretical. Before, being attracted to men was mostly an abstract concept. He was gay on paper. In his head, he knew that he was attracted to men. Listening to Josh Lyman speak, watching the fire in his eyes that sparked up the whole bar even through the visible exhaustion was the first time he knew it in the rest of his body. In his chest, in his bones, in his fingertips. In his gut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that got real gay real fast. (Just like myself)  
Thanks for the support, everybody! I’m really grateful our take on these babies is resonating with people already. So far, in particular, Sam’s fixations. I have always head-canoned Sam as having OCD (like I do), and SM and I decided to let flickers of that show into this world as well. I wrote a SamJosh one shot, Handle With Care, a few months ago about figuring that out if you want something to read between chapters. It’s not specifically part of this universe, but it could be! Mostly it’s just me showing love to my OCD through Josh’s love for Sam. You can read that here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19081936 because THE WORLD NEEDS MORE NEURODIVERGENT GAY REPRESENTATION. I sure could use that myself!!! Plus, it may help to understand this reading of Sam, which can help you understand some little moments in further chapters. 
> 
> Again, thanks for the love!  
-LP


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello yes i realize this chapter is late and it is because i'm a mess who doesnt know what day it is but enjoy some more josh!  
-supernatural_mondler

**JOSH**

Josh didn’t really know what to make of Sam.

He had been in Washington for some time now, he had seen more than his fair share of overeager young staffers. Hell, it wasn’t too long ago that he _ was _ an overeager young staffer. So his expectations had been fairly low.

In some ways, Sam Seaborn had been exactly what he had expected: young, fresh, enthusiastic and ambitious, maybe a bit naïve. He had shown up with this big binder and even bigger ideas, rambling on about the Endangered Species Act and a National Preserve in New Mexico of all places and an interview that Josh didn’t even remember giving, and Josh thought he was absolutely crazy. Or at least, predictably delusional.

Except. This kid was _smart_. He had clearly done his research. He had sources, he had data, he had a clearly formulated argument. He had everything you needed to make a point and Josh really struggled to find the flaw in Sam’s proposal. And Sam just sounded so confident—not in the cocky way of someone who was used to being one of the top students in their Ivy League class, but like someone who had chosen their words with a great deal of care, and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were right—that Josh found himself agreeing to…what? What were they even doing?

“_Progress _ it,” Sam had said. But Josh didn’t know what that _ meant _. His plate was more than full with his real job, he didn’t need to go on some wild goose chase to fix environmental policy, or whatever Sam was suggesting.

There were a million reasons to say no, and Josh really wanted to say no. To say, “sorry kid, nice thought, but it’s not gonna happen.” That’s what he should have done. But instead, he found himself saying “okay” and that was that. 

Sam lit up at Josh’s agreement, like he couldn’t believe he had actually gotten Josh on board. _ Same here, kid _Josh wanted to say.

“So how…how do you want to do this?”

Josh blinked slowly. “Huh?”

“Should we, you know,” Sam gestured vaguely, “meet up like this every week? Or, you’re probably busy, aren’t you? Every other week? What if we—”

“Sam,” Josh cut him off. “You’ve got the number to reach me. We don’t have to, like, figure everything out right now, do we?”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “No, yeah, that’s good. I’ll just…I could try to get this started and I could give you a call when I have something for you?”

Josh raised an eyebrow. It seemed like once Sam had gotten past his talking points, his confidence had slipped. No longer did his speech have a structure, instead he was stammering over the simplest of phrases. In some ways this comforted Josh; apparently this kid didn’t have it as together as he appeared.

“Sam, relax,” Josh encouraged. “Just…whatever works. It’s not a big deal. We’ll figure something out. Of all the things you’ve probably got going on right now, I can promise you this is not the thing to stress over, okay?”

“Yeah, right,” Sam exhaled, but he didn’t seem any less tense.

“Why is this even such a big deal to you?” Josh wondered. “I’m sure you’ve got enough on your plate as is, without starting this…campaign, or whatever, for wildlife protection. So what’s the end goal here?”

“I came here to make a difference,” Sam explained simply. “There are so many things that happen every day that I have no control over, or no hand in, and it’s disenchanting. Every day I have to wonder what it’s all for. But here’s this thing that maybe I could do? Maybe it’s stupid, but I feel like I have to at least try.”

That…well, that resonated with Josh for sure. He had been lucky so far in his short career, had had numerous opportunities to work on something really worthwhile, and it’s by far Josh’s favorite part of his job. He remembers being in Sam’s position, just starting out and desperate to help, looking for _ any _ opportunity to get his hands on something that might go to the floor. That never quite went away, no matter how many bills Josh had helped pass.

“I don’t—I don’t want to get your hopes up,” Josh began, tilting his head back to finish his beer, “because we could construct the best argument in the world, we could pester all the right people, and it still might not get anywhere—”

“I know that!” Sam interrupted. “I just…I want to _ try _.”

“If you’d let me _ finish _,” Josh smirked, and Sam looked down sheepishly. “I think you’re right. I think wildlife preservation is incredibly important to the future of our world, and someone needs to do something because the system is fucked to hell. The least we can do is get the ball rolling, and who knows,” Josh shrugged, sliding his bottle back and forth between his hands, “maybe ten, fifteen years from now someone will look at our notes and get something real done.”

“You don’t think we have a chance of doing anything now?” Sam asked, sounding almost disappointed. Josh knew the feeling.

“I didn’t say that,” Josh responded. “I think anything is possible. I’m just laying out all the possible outcomes here. I’m on your side, Sam. Do you want another beer?”

“Uhhhh no?” Sam blinked slowly, like he wasn’t sure what Josh was asking, or like he was. 

“I’m gonna head out then,” Josh stood up, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. “I’ve got a pile of agriculture memos waiting for me back at my desk that I wanna grab before I head home.”

“You’re going to work tonight?” Sam asked, rising with him.

“Government slows for nothing and no one, Sam,” Josh informed him sagely. “You’ll get used to it. You know where to reach me?”

“Um…yeah, yeah,” Sam stuttered as Josh started walking towards the main entrance. “I’ll call you?”

Josh threw a wave over his shoulder but didn’t turn around again. They had barely sat together for an hour, but the meeting had left Josh with so much to think about he didn’t even know where to begin. He did agree with Sam, he hadn’t been lying about that; the Endangered Species Act couldn’t work through all the bureaucracy and red tape that inhibited any species from actually being declared, well, endangered. Someone needed to do something, and while Josh probably wouldn’t rank the issue in his personal top ten, the thought of pushing forward on a concrete mission like this lit something in him that had felt dull lately. 

And as for Sam himself, well, Josh was still a little perplexed.

His instinct was to stick with his initial assessment that Sam was smart, but naïve and idealistic in a way that Josh didn’t think he had ever been, even fresh out of school. Yet he also…saw something in Sam that reminded him of himself, or of the self he wanted to be. Sam was driven. Unlike so many others in Washington, Sam didn’t have any ambitions of power for himself; he genuinely wanted to make a change. Not because of what it could do for his career, but because Sam wanted to make the country a better place. There was something incredibly admirable about that. Washington needed more people like that, maybe then something would get done.

As much as Josh wanted this for himself, so that he could start to feel useful again, more than that he wanted it for Sam. Because people like Sam _ deserved _ to change the world.

It was dark by the time Josh made it back to the office suite. Mia’s desk was long abandoned, but there were still a few stragglers hunched over their stations, chugging coffee by the cupful in an attempt to survive whatever horror kept them here past seven at night. Josh had known entirely too many nights like this himself, and he half considered setting up here again to get some more reading done, but the Mets played at eight and the idea of actually getting home in time to catch a baseball game was enough motivation for him to load his backpack with as many binders as he could and head out.

On the way out the door, he stopped to scribble a note for Mia when she returned tomorrow.

_ Could you and Tim get me anything you can find on the Endangered Species Act/Coalition? Thanks. Josh. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! as always, let us know what you think, comments are beyond appreciated! next chapter is out October 15th, so take some time between now and then to spread the word and share this story with your fellow samjosh friends!


	5. Chapter 5

**SAM**

Sam was supposed to be reading notes for a meeting on farm subsidies, but instead, he was thinking about Josh Lyman’s dimples.

It had been three weeks since they first met outside the Hawk’n’Dove. There was an intense nip in the air now, and there were more leaves off the trees than on them. Cold weather usually had a substantial impact on his mood and motivation. Despite college having brought him to the Northeast, he still felt like a California beach boy stuck in the snow sometimes. Yet, he had been in better spirits the past three weeks while the weather turned cold than he had been since he got to D.C. last May. He didn’t want to chalk that up  _ entirely _ to a particular pair of dimples, but they were the only changing variable. 

Indeed, Sam had spent significant portions each day of the past three weeks trailing a pace behind Josh Lyman, watching him hurricane through the halls of Congress, shooting ideas at the back of his head like sparks. Other days, they’d barely bumped into each other, but rather furiously faxed back and forth, leaving messages about their pet project. But by the third week, fewer and fewer of their messages and conversations were about the Endangered Species Act, and more and more were about anything and everything the other might find interesting. He had lost count of the number of times he had barreled into Josh Lyman’s office unannounced to slam an article down on his desk or ask for his take on the news of the day. Josh would fluster at him a little with raised eyebrows but would never seem too surprised to see him there. 

So today, Sam’s eyes were drifting back and forth between the farm subsidies notes and the clock on the wall telling him how soon he could leave for his bi-weekly (although, who was he kidding, those were fast becoming daily) lunch with Josh Lyman. The second hand seemed to get slower as it approached noon, but when it finally did, he leapt up and grabbed his jacket and buzzed out of his chair. Stopping for just a moment to check his reflection in the tiny window on Congresswoman Levy’s office door, he ran a hand through his hair to try and smooth down a flyaway, straightened his tie, adjusted his glasses, and checked his teeth for poppy seeds from that morning’s muffin. 

“Got a hot lunch date, Seaborn?” the Congresswoman’s voice asked over his shoulder. He spun around a little too quickly, and felt his eyes widen at his boss’s teasing. She was tugging off her coat, followed by her COS, a coffee from her favorite lunch spot in hand.

“No!” Sam cried awkwardly, “Yes! I mean, I’m just grabbing a sandwich with my…” he paused now because he almost said “friend.” But then he thought it might sound more impressive to say “colleague.” But then he realized Josh Lyman wasn’t exactly his colleague. But  _ then _ he realized that Congresswoman Levy probably knew who Josh Lyman was and would be very impressed that he was on Josh Lyman’s radar. But he couldn’t just say “my Josh Lyman” because that was incoherent. So he was trying to determine if it was worth it to stumble over his words and start over, when sly grins crossed their faces.

“Well, your hair looks great!” Congresswoman Levy said, “She’s a lucky girl! Bring her around to show the place off any time.” 

And before he could reply, they’d ducked into her office, exchanging amused chuckles. And Sam stood feeling a bit flabbergasted. 

He still managed to get to what was becoming their table at Pat’s Deli first. He had just enough time to order his food and organize his thoughts before Josh came blustering in. Josh ordered and sat down across from Sam, saying in his signature breathless way, “Helluva wind out there, huh?” 

Sam nodded. He’d mostly noticed the wind because it had messed up his hair and turned his nose red. Josh’s hair looked perpetually windswept and the color in his cheeks was only brightened by the cold, so he didn’t look much different than usual. As Josh complained nonsense about pedestrians having the right of way, all Sam could think about what how gorgeous his eyes were. 

They were falling steadily into something of a delightful friendship, the kind that lost hours arguing joyfully about minute policy details and bantered about their lives, but he couldn’t pretend that the affection he had for Josh was strictly platonic. And he tried not to let himself read to much into some of the lingering gazes Josh shot his way, but he had made little mental notes of them for sure. 

“So, besides a revitalized anger at D.C. drivers, what do you have for me today?” Sam asked when Josh’s rant lulled. 

Low laughter. Dimples. A playful eye roll. 

“Sam, I told you on the phone: I’ve turned over our letter and the research to my boss, to the EPA people, and to my mentor’s friend from the Endangered Species Coalition,” Josh responded, “I don’t have anything else for you on this thing.”

“What are our next steps?”

“Waiting,” Josh said.

“What do we do while we’re waiting?”

Another flash of those dimples. A laugh off to the side.

“Our jobs, Sam.” 

“So…” Sam blinked, “So you’re saying… you’re saying…?” Sam wasn’t sure what Josh was saying.

“It’s out of our hands now,” Josh shrugged, “I told you from the get go this was above my pay-grade. I’ve done what I can to have this seen by the right people. Now we just gotta wait for them to see it.”

“So,” Sam repeated dryly, “So we can’t  _ actually _ do anything else? We can’t actually do  _ anything _ about this?”

“We got the ball rolling, Sam!” Josh insisted, “We  _ did _ do something about this.” 

The waiter brought their sandwiches, and asked if they wanted anything else. They shook their hands, and Sam took a small bite, furrowing his brow, thinking. He felt Josh watching him, not taking a bite, his eyes wide and amused. 

“How long do we wait, then?” Sam asked after a swallow. Josh shrugged. “Weeks?” Josh shrugged. “Months?” Josh shrugged. “Years?” Josh shrugged. “Josh!”

“Sam!” Josh cocked his head, feigning to match Sam’s own outrage. 

Sam gave Josh a look. Josh grinned. 

“What about the non-profits? What about the Natural Resources Committee? What about…?” 

“What about ‘em?” Josh shrugged again, “This is how we start the conversation.” 

“Well, I’m not just going to drop this if nobody talks back!” Sam asserted, “How soon is too soon to follow up?”

Josh let out a long sigh, one Sam had heard countless times now, one that he was figuring out meant that Josh was teetering on some kind of balancing beam between cautious and optimistic.

“Give it until the end of the year,” Josh finally conceded, “We’ll regroup and make a strategy after we come back after the Christmas break.”

“Excellent!” Sam chirped, “We have a timeline! I always like having a timeline” 

He liked timelines. He liked the face that Josh made at him when he said he liked timelines.

“You’re a dork,” Josh said, finally beginning to eat his lunch. 

“Hey,” Sam retorted, taking another bite of his own sandwich, “Which one of us collected baseball cards well into high school?”

Josh snorted, “Which one of us went to Dungeons and Dragons camp?” 

“Which one of us starred in  _ Lil Abner?” _

“Which one of us was in the Princeton Gilbert and Sullivan Society?” 

“Hang on,” Sam stopped him, holding up a hand and swallowing his food, “I wasn’t just  _ in _ the Gilbert and Sullivan Society. I was Recording Secretary for the Princeton Gilbert and Sullivan Society.” 

“Oh, well in  _ that _ case,” Josh smirked at him, wiping a speck of mustard from his cheek, “In that case, you certainly aren’t just a dork. You are, in fact, _ the biggest dork I’ve ever met.” _

Beaming back at him, Sam quipped “I suppose that’s due to the fact that you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yourself.”

Josh muttered something about what Sam could do to  _ himself _ as they finished their sandwiches before sliding a couple bills on the table and beginning the walk back to Capitol Hill together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You'll get to catch up with Josh in a couple weeks, so watch this space!


	6. Chapter 6

**JOSH**

Josh had never been the kind to make friends easily. For one, he had spent most of his high school and college years locked up in his room, studying for the next exam or reading up on some obscure topic he thought might come in handy later, rather than going to school dances or football games or out to the bars. Plus, he had always been a quiet kid, then once he actually found his voice in the classroom he became that annoying kid who everyone just wanted to shut up. He was closer with most of his teachers than his classmates.

He had been fortunate to have such good roommates in college, people he got along with who could actually convince him to ditch the books from time to time to get the “real” college experience. It wasn’t much, and Josh always got the sense that they were all closer with each other than he was with them, but it was something.

Somehow, though, between after-work drinks and strategy sessions over lunch and quick meetings at three in the afternoon when one of them wanted to get up and stretch his legs, Josh and Sam seemed to have developed something that definitely resembled a friendship. He sure as hell hadn’t seen it coming, because Sam was young and naïve and confusing and sometimes a little bit annoying, but he was also smart and funny and dedicated and would let Josh rant about the Mets for minutes on end, and Josh found himself craving the other man’s presence more and more.

He hadn’t been lying when he told Sam that their little project was out of his hands now; there was only so much a few junior staffers could do, even one as headstrong as Sam Seaborn. The only thing was, with their common goal on the back burner for the moment, would they still have a reason to spend time together? And did Sam even  _ want _ to spend time with him? Surely someone as friendly and personable as Sam had no shortage of people to spend his free time with, Josh wasn’t going to be  _ that  _ guy who forced himself into someone else’s life. If Sam wanted to keep their interactions confined to turning their research into an actual piece of legislation, then that was what would happen. Josh would probably hate that, but that was what would happen.

He had mostly convinced himself that he could live without seeing Sam’s face every day when suddenly Sam’s face appeared right there in the office, leaning against Mia’s desk as he chatted with her casually. Sam had been by a few times over the past few weeks to drag him away to lunch or to get his opinion on something quickly in between meetings, and as a result he and Mia had had plenty of time to get to know each other a bit (Josh was a busy guy, just because he  _ said _ he would be ready in five didn’t mean he would actually be ready in five). He looked at the clock on his phone, and realized that it was approaching seven o’clock. He’d had a series of meetings after his lunch with Sam that had occupied most of his afternoon, and had returned to his desk to catch up on reading only two hours ago.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, leaning back in his chair to get the attention of the two at the front of the room. There were a few staffers still left in the office, Burns had a committee hearing coming up that they were working to get prepared for, but they for the most part paid him no mind.

Sam looked up from his conversation with Mia and greeted Josh with a blinding grin, as though he hadn’t expected Josh to be there for some reason.

“Hi,” he bounced over to Josh’s desk and slid into the vacant chair next to him.

“Hi…?”

“Oh! Yeah I just finished up and wanted to see if you were still here,” Sam explained.

“I am.”

“You are!”

“And…?

“Have you eaten yet?”

“You mean since lunch?” Sam nodded. “No, it’s been a crazy afternoon, but I’ll probably get out of here 

soon.”

“Lakers-Celtics game starts in an hour. We could order pizza,” Sam suggested.

“Here?”

“No, not here, dumbass,” Sam rolled his eyes. “My apartment. Or yours, if you prefer, but I’ve been told it’s rude to invite yourself to someone else’s home so I figured I’d start with mine.”

That sounded…an awful lot like something friends might do.

Thus they fell into a new pattern.

They hardly mentioned their wildlife protection research—though Josh would bet anything that Sam hadn’t forgotten—but they were suddenly seeing each other every day. Sam would pop by around noon and drag Josh out for lunch, or drag him down to the cafeteria when they just had time for a quick bite, or, once, when Josh had had a particularly full day, drag food up from downstairs and eat cramped together in front of his desk while he frantically pieced together a position paper with Sam offering corrections over his shoulder. 

Sometimes Sam would stop by again at the end of the day with the suggestion of a new restaurant he wanted to try, or a game they should watch. Occasionally they would go out for drinks with other staffers (mostly Sam’s colleagues), but usually it was just the two of them. It took Josh about two weeks to finally work up the courage to show up at Sam’s office to make plans. Part of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, still not quite able to believe that someone wanted to hang out with him all the time. The smile he received when Sam spotted him hovering in the entry pretty much put to rest any doubts he had as to where they stood.

The first time Sam showed up at his apartment unannounced, Josh wanted to kill him.

It was a Sunday, after Josh had been in the office all of Saturday—a day which Sam had had off, much to his irritation—and all Josh wanted to do was sleep in, roll over, and sleep some more. Yet for some reason he was jolted awake at  _ nine-fucking-thirty _ by a thumping on his door. He practically growled as he shuffled out of bed, cursing whatever or whoever dared interrupt his morning. He jerked the front door open to reveal Sam standing there, casual as anything, looking like it  _ wasn’t _ god-awfully early on a weekend. He looked completely put together, dressed in light blue jeans and a dark blue sweater, hair perfectly combed and styled, eyes bright like he hadn’t just woken up moments ago. 

If he was in a better mood, Josh would probably be amused by the contrast to Sam he provided, clad only in sweatpants and a white undershirt with his hair likely even more of a disaster than usual. But Sam had woken him up early, so Josh was not amused, he was just mad.

“Morning!” Sam chirped, seemingly unaware of Josh’s foul mood as he brushed past him and into the apartment.

“What do you  _ want _ ?” Josh grumbled, kicking the door shut.

Sam flopped down on the couch. “There’s a farmer’s market just a couple blocks from here I thought we could check out, then we could go get breakfast somewhere?” he explained, and Josh stared back at him blankly.

“You… _ what _ ?” Josh stuttered, because Sam was saying words faster than he could process them and it sounded like Sam had walked over here at nine-thirty in the morning on a Sunday to do some  _ shopping _ ?

“A market, Josh!” Sam exclaimed. “Fresh produce, homemade bread—”

“It’s Sunday morning!” Josh protested, just in case Sam had forgotten somehow.

“Of course! It’s only open on Sundays! And the earlier we get there, the fresher everything will be.”

“Sam, have you  _ ever _ seen me cook?” Josh asked, because he was still struggling with what the hell Sam was even talking about.

“I don’t cook that often either,” Sam reminded him.

“So…?”

“Cooking is always better with fresh ingredients!”

“Righttttt…” Josh replied slowly, finally starting to wake up and  _ hoping _ that Sam wasn’t suggesting what Josh thought he was.

“So we should get some stuff to cook tonight!”

“No.”

“ _ Josh _ ,” Sam whined.

“It’s  _ early _ ,” Josh countered. “What the  _ fuck _ made you think this was something I wanted to do?”

“Because it’ll be  _ fun _ !”

“You know what else is fun? Sleeping in and ordering a pizza.”

“You always do that. We’re going to do something different today.”

“Oh we are, are we?” Josh smirked with amusement. Sam seemed very sure of himself for a guy with such a stupid idea.

“Yes, now go get ready,” Sam instructed.

“How about you go shopping and I’ll go back to bed?” Josh suggested, though he could already feel his defenses wearing down.

“ _ Josh _ , half the fun is shopping!” Sam protested.

“You realize this is my only day off right,” Josh sighed as he started to trudge back to his room.

“And how lucky you are to spend it on something so invigorating,” Sam replied. “Now hurry up.”

“You’re buying me coffee,” Josh called back over his shoulder, not bothering to wait for a response before slamming his bedroom door behind him (more for show than anything, now that he was awake the whole prospect didn’t really sound that terrible).

Sam did end up buying him a coffee, then bought him breakfast afterwards. Josh had always found grocery shopping fairly tedious, one of the main reasons he lived off of takeout, but even he had to admit that it was pretty cool to see what real food looked like. And Sam’s honest excitement about, well,  _ everything _ left Josh with no choice but to feel excited too.

That’s just how Sam was. He found the world absolutely remarkable for reasons Josh didn’t quite understand, and he managed to pull everyone else along with him. He wanted to save some cranes in New Mexico, and suddenly he had Josh researching the Endangered Species Act. He had once convinced Congresswoman Levy that they should take a staff field trip to the bay for a day out on the water. Josh got the impression that the trip had been mostly a disaster, but the way Sam described it sounded absolutely exhilarating, and none of his colleagues had ever refuted that. Josh usually found that sort of positivity annoying, but Sam honestly made him see the world in a different way. That was probably why Josh enjoyed spending time with him so much.

Sam got better about letting Josh sleep in after that, but he still spent more days than not at Josh’s apartment. After their not-complete-failure in the kitchen that first week, Sam showed up the next Sunday with his arms already loaded with grocery bags, announcing that they were going to make their own pizza today, and so that’s exactly what they did. Once he showed up on a Wednesday night, shortly after Josh got home, wearing gym shorts and running shoes and a Princeton sweatshirt and told Josh that he wanted to go for a jog along the river, so Josh found himself tugging on his little-used gym shoes and trailing along behind him, completely out of shape but feeling freer than he ever had as they laughed their way through the dark D.C. streets.

Josh  _ hated  _ cooking. Josh  _ hated _ running. Josh didn’t think there was much he wouldn’t enjoy doing with Sam.

Josh had never really had close friends before, and he had certainly never had a  _ best _ friend, but he suspected it felt a little something like this. In just a few short weeks, Sam had become his favorite person in the world and Josh didn’t think he would ever tire of the other man’s company. There was something different about Sam, and Josh couldn’t quite put his finger on it. So he continued to spend every moment he could with Sam, and if making Sam smile became his number one goal in life, that was just friendship, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos/comments make us so happy, we'd love to hear how yall are liking the story so far! Next chapter will be out the week of thanksgiving!


	7. Chapter 7

**SAM**

A month of dragging Josh to the winter markets, forcing him to cook, yanking him out of bed early to go jogging, or showing up unannounced for a variety of other excuses landed the two of them squarely at the end of November with a list of little moments together so long that Sam had lost count. At first, he tried to keep a running tally of all the times Josh had let a hug last a little longer, hadn’t pulled away when Sam threw an arm around his shoulder, or that Sam saw Josh looking at him from under his curls. But after that first month of inserting himself quite persistently into Josh’s daily life, moments like these became so commonplace, that eventually, Sam started really only being able to keep track of the times when something like that hadn’t happened. The first time Josh had flinched at Sam’s gentle pat on the back, Sam had returned to his office, a tiny nagging voice in his head wondering if he had been reading this all wrong, fearing he’d crossed a line, worried he’d ruined everything. Not five minutes later, Sam’s phone rang, and it was Josh, diving head first into a rant about how frustrating the senior member of the House Administration committee was being, making it impossible for him to get a consistent headcount for a possible bill on election reform. Sam had felt himself sigh as Josh’s temper tantrum confirmed that Josh just needed to blow off steam. He hadn’t read anything incorrectly. 

Sam prided himself in how well he could read Josh. Josh was not that difficult to read. He had an expressive face and even more revealing body language. But Sam liked that he could connect the dots. He liked that he was starting to be able to anticipate when he’d get one of those ranting phone calls. He could figure out if this was a stay in and order pizza kind of day or the kind of day he needed to get Josh out of his own head and into the world again. He liked that once he showed up with a plan, even if Josh looked pissed, by the end of the endeavor, he was a lot calmer: his shoulders would be more relaxed, his stride would be springy but slower, less urgent, and the sarcastic remarks would be accompanied by a dimple rather than a scoff. 

Sam liked that a lot. But perhaps the best thing that happened was during one of those Sunday morning market runs. Sam’s attention was completely captivated by a particularly striking pile of rainbow chard, when he could just make out someone calling Josh’s name. He didn’t pay this much mind, just cordial greetings between Josh and someone he knew. But then he felt Josh’s hand on the back of his coat, a little lower down than he had ever registered Josh’s hand before. As Sam turned his gaze to the conversation and away from the chard, Josh was saying, “Congressman White, this is my best friend Sam Seaborn.” Sam reached for a handshake and tried to say something intelligent, or really just comprehensible. Because all he could process was the heat of Josh’s hand on the small of his back that he could somehow feel despite all the layers that seemed to radiate through his body, just like the sound of Josh calling him his best friend coursed through him like a perfect sip of hot coffee. 

That exchange took place the Sunday before Thanksgiving. The week that followed was a bizarre limbo period where there was a lot to finish up before all the Representatives went home for a holiday, but nobody really wanted to start anything new. “Hurry up and wait” became the motto around Congresswoman Levy’s office: get this step done in time for us to get home, but don’t expect the next step to come any time soon. This was fine with Sam, because it meant more time to go bug Josh, his best friend. His best friend, Josh. It gave him more time to go bug his best friend, Josh. Not that he didn’t love his job or relish the work. But he also loved bugging his best friend, Josh.

That’s exactly what he was doing the Tuesday evening before Thanksgiving. He was at Mia’s desk with a file he carried around to look busy. Mia had given up on trying to keep him away. In fact, she never really had given it much of an effort. He figured she welcomed someone who could take Josh’s energy away from annoying her. Sam spent so much of his down time there that when the other Congressional aides needed him, they just called Mia. She was a sweet but tough person with a short burst of bright red hair. She always wore big earrings and oversized shoulder pads and brooches of animals. Sam liked her. But mostly he liked her because she let him hang around Josh as much as he wanted. 

“So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving, Mia?” Sam asked as Josh pottered uselessly around the office.

“I am going to park myself in front of Monty Python with my roommates,” she said, “We’re going to make chili and drink too much mulled wine.”

“That sounds…” Sam started.

“Like how we all wished we could spend the holidays if we were being honest with each other?” Mia raised an eyebrow. 

Sam opened his mouth to say “sad,” but he was interrupted by Josh bellowing, “SAM!” He spun around in Josh’s direction as the bellowing continued, “Where did I put my thing on the child hunger rates in…?”

“It’s probably under the green binder next to your phone,” Sam replied not even looking up. 

“Thank you!” Josh cried before blustering past them, holding up the file in question, “I’ll be right back, I gotta catch what’s his name before the...yeah.” And he was out the door. Sam blinked in his direction, and Mia was just chuckling, “I don’t understand how one person can help and hinder his productivity in equal portions.”

“Me?” Sam feigned surprise.

“Yes you, Sam Seaborn!”

“Mia Davidson,” Sam matched her tone, swiveling to face her, “Why do you always let me in here, then?”

She sighed and closed her reading, folding her hands over her the notebook in front of her and said, “Because I figure it’s better for him to talk _ to _ you instead of just _ about _ you.” 

Sam’s heart fluttered in his chest, and he felt his cheeks get hot. He made a pretense of adjusting his glasses to hide his blush, but Mia just playfully rolled her eyes at him. He rolled his eyes back at her and crossed to plop behind Josh’s desk, habitually straightening up, glancing at the hastily-written sticky note reminders of meetings, phone calls, and items he had to look up. When Sam was done throwing away all the ones that Josh had already completed, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, listening to the tapping of Mia’s pen and Josh’s footsteps getting closer from down the hall. 

“Y’ready?” Josh said, blustering in and gathering the last of his things. 

“I’ve been ready for half an hour!” Sam responded, not moving from Josh’s desk even as he realized he was very much in the way. He just liked how close Josh had to get to him to reach around and grab his stuff. Josh got all ready, and as they walked out of the Capitol, Sam pulled his coat tight to him, blowing air into his woolen mittens to try and warm them up, while Josh strode as if the weather was nothing. They had decided to just grab a beer since Sam had to pack and everything the next day. 

Out of nowhere, Josh said, “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he was looking at his feet, his voice sounding a little cautious, “My uh… one of my dad’s law school buddies is gonna make a run for the Connecticut Senate seat that’s opening up next year after Bittleman retires.”

“Oh, wow!” was all Sam could think to say, a little too focused on warming his hands.

“They’re trying to put together a campaign team…” Josh went on, “And I, uh… I put in a good word for you if you want an interview.” 

Sam stopped in his tracks, but Josh just kept walking. It took about five paces before Josh figured out that Sam was no longer beside him. Josh turned on the balls of his feet, tossing a startled expression at Sam. 

“Josh…” Sam managed, “Josh, I don’t know what to say.” 

“That’s a Seaborn first!” Josh scoffed, kicking his foot a little.

Sam laughed in spite of himself and asked, “Wouldn’t _ you _ be a better fit for that gig?”

“I already have a pretty good gig,” Josh shrugged. 

Sam tried to speak, his mind racing with answers, before he settled on, “Thank you for thinking of me, but I don’t even know if I’m going to be _ doing _ this a year from now.”

Josh blinked for a second before asking, “Wh-what else would you be doing?”

“Well,” Sam starting, continuing to walk at a much brisker pace than before, passing Josh, who swiftly turned around, almost hopping in order to keep up with Sam, “There’s law school.” 

“Law school?” Josh sounded perplexed. 

“Yes, Josh, law school!” Sam couldn’t tell if his tone was getting harsh because of the cold or because he had already told Josh hundreds of times that law school was next, “You got to do law school, why shouldn’t I?”

“I did law school so I could do this!” Josh protested, “If you already have prospects here, why bother?”

“That’s not the reason everyone goes to law school!” Sam said, actively trying to make his voice return to a normal pitch.

“Then what’s your reason for going to law school?” Josh asked.

“Because that’s the plan!” Sam stopped short again, turning to face Josh, realizing he said it a little louder than he meant to. Josh stopped to furrow his brow at him, and Sam softened his face to try and communicate that he wasn’t angry. Because he wasn’t. 

Josh looked at him, blinking a little, like he was surprised and contemplative and _ something else.... _

“Okay,” Josh said in his characteristic way, shrugging and starting to walk again. Sam squinted at Josh’s back and then it was his turn to jog a bit to get back in step.

_ “Really!” _ Sam caught up.

“Okay!” Josh looked up in a stifled eye roll. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asked through a laugh. 

“I said okay!” Josh curled his lip and shrugged with the fact that his nonchalance was feigned becoming even more tangible than the cold.

“Josh!” Sam prodded. There was something Josh wasn’t saying, and Sam didn’t like that.

“Sam!” Josh laughed now, “I just said okay. No hidden meanings!” He raised his hands in their fingerless gloves defensively. 

“Okay,” Sam finally resigned. 

They walked in silence for maybe three steps before Josh said, no longer able to muster a casual tone, “Except when you say ‘that’s the plan’ it translates to ‘that’s my dad’s plan’ not _ your _ plan.” 

Sam was completely stunned, but still kept up his steps beside Josh. He hadn’t said in a mean way, but he hadn’t exactly said it in a nice way, either. Just very blunt. Yet again, Sam didn’t have a response to that. He had talked some about his family with Josh, but not a lot and not in a negative light. They were proud of him and supported him. That they always wanted what was best for him. That they sent him to the best schools, made sure he had the best teachers, helped him find the best internships all throughout undergrad. They weren’t perfect; maybe they weren’t as touchy-feely as or as emotionally involved as the Lymans. They didn’t expect phone calls every other day like Josh’s mom or write long letters with clip-outs from the funny pages like Josh’s dad. But they pushed him so that he could be prepared to follow his dreams. And not all kids could say that.

“It is my plan, Josh,” Sam sighed, “It’s always been my plan.”

“Okay,” Josh said sincerely this time. 

“Besides, if I am going to stay in politics, I wouldn’t want to leave D.C.,” Sam added before he thought better of it.

“Why not?” Josh asked. 

_ Because you’re here, _ was what he said in his mind, but it came out as “Because of the people.”

The rest of the night was normal. They each had a beer and talked about the day they had and speculations about what would happen after the holiday. The law school stuff didn’t come up again, but it was still in the back of Sam’s mind, even after he went home. It lingered there the next morning and into the afternoon as he sat in the airport waiting for his flight back to California. Sipping on cheap airplane chardonnay, it occurred to him that Josh’s comment hadn’t really hurt his feelings, even though it probably should have. It was a dig, and Josh had kind of meant it that way, even if it did come from a place of caring. 

But that’s not why Sam couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation. What he kept circling back to was how much Josh would have had to notice and think about to have been able to make that judgement. And it wasn’t too far off. Sam _ had _ always known that law school was expected of him. Just because he liked the idea didn’t mean it hadn’t originated with his father. What he kept thinking about was how that wasn’t the kind of comment somebody would make lightly or easily. It was personal and potentially hurtful. But Josh had said it. Josh had obviously felt like he _ had _ to say it. Josh had cared enough about Sam and his future to say something that was really difficult to say. That was something that Sam had never really valued in relationships before now. His parents gave him enough pressure that, outside his family, he looked for sources of comfort and fun and affirmation. And Josh _ was _ those things. But he was also honest. And Sam realized that he _ wanted _ Josh to be honest with him. He wanted someone who could see all of who he was and still enjoy his company: someone from whom he didn’t have to hide his flaws, but who wouldn’t pretend not to see them. He realized that the crush he had on Josh and the feelings of kinship where bubbling into something a lot deeper. He wouldn’t let himself say _ that particular word _ yet, but he could tell he would probably have to say it soon if he was going to be truthful. And that would be the first time. That would be the first time he couldn’t brush this part of himself under the rug. If he… had that particular feeling… for a man, for Josh, if he could see a future with him, a life with him… he couldn’t keep that inside anymore. 

So when Sam stepped off the plane, gathered his bags, and met the driver, he was fully resolved that by the next time he was in that airport, he would have come out to his parents.


	8. Chapter 8

**JOSH**

The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas were hectic to say the least.

This was budget season, and Josh spent his days—every single one of them—holed up at his desk, sitting in meetings with staffers from the majority, or reading stacks upon stacks of memos on his couch at home. Even his bed seemed like a distant memory this time of year. He couldn’t imagine what his life would look like if Burns was actually on the Budget Committee, his load was heavy enough like this. Small consolations.

Sam didn’t seem to get that, though. As a communications staffer he wasn’t very involved in the budget process, so other than being surrounded by a bunch of over-stressed politicians his life hadn’t changed too much. Which meant that he still showed up at Josh’s desk around six every day with his coat and a smile, ready to drag Josh out of the office by the collar if necessary.

Josh would protest, and the rest of the staff would shoot them dirty looks for interrupting their work during such a busy time, and Sam would eventually quiet down and find a seat and spend the next few hours hovering, quietly asking Josh questions about what he was reading and what he was working on, and at the end of the night he would walk Josh home, make sure he got something to eat, and depart with a hug and a reminder to “get some sleep, okay? Won’t be able to work on the budget if you die from exhaustion.”

Josh would roll his eyes and brush him off and then crash on his couch a few hours later to get a little bit of sleep before waking up at the crack of dawn to do it all over again.

He had to admire Sam’s persistence, honestly, because Josh knew he wasn’t the most pleasant to be around, especially when he was stressed, yet it seemed like Sam was around now more than ever. He asked Josh about his work not to fill the silence, but because he was genuinely interested in what Josh was doing. Sam was like a sponge, always soaking in every detail about everything he came into contact with, just in case he needed it later. Just in case he had to work on the budget one day or something.

Sometimes Josh would snap at him to be quiet, to leave him alone, to leave him to suffer in peace, but usually he found that he liked the company. Many times, answering Sam’s questions would help Josh come up with a few answers of his own, and the pleased grin on Sam’s face whenever that happened led Josh to wonder if it wasn’t intentional. 

His desk was barely big enough for one, definitely not for two, but they sat shoulder to shoulder there more evenings than not. Personal space had never been something Sam cared much about, and Josh had long ago decided to pick his battles when it came to his friend’s over-eagerness. Sam’s hand resting on his thigh was pretty far down on his list of worries when he had so much work to do.

“Josh.”

Sam’s voice broke him away from the thick memo he had been annotating for the better part of…wow, two hours, and Josh looked up for the first time in ages. The office was completely empty except for the two of them, late even for the busiest season. Josh dropped his head down on his desk and groaned.

“I’m so far behind, god I’m never gonna get this,” he lamented. Sam, who had been sitting pressed against his side, got up and stood behind him, and a moment later Josh felt two hands digging into his shoulder blades, firmly but gently easing the tension out.

“I’ve seen you cruise through more work in the last three hours than most people get done all day,” Sam assured him. “You’re doing such a good job, Josh, you just gotta hang on for a few more weeks and then everything will go back to normal.”

Josh huffed out a laugh. “What even is normal?” he mumbled, but Sam didn’t respond to that, continuing his massage in silence. Josh had to admit that it felt good. He hadn’t even realized how tense he was—though he shouldn’t have been surprised, given the amount of stress he was under—until suddenly he was more at ease than he had been in weeks. 

They stayed like that for a few more minutes until Sam’s hands had slowed their movements and were eventually just resting on Josh’s shoulders, and Josh sluggishly sat upright again.

“You okay?” Sam asked softly, his hands still covering the tops of Josh’s arms.

Josh sighed. “Depends on your definition, but yeah.”

“Ready for me to take you home?”

Josh stood up and Sam let his hands fall to his sides again. “You know you don’t have to wait around for me, right? I can get myself home. In fact, I did it for two years before you came along.”

Sam handed him his coat. “Honestly, Josh, you’re so tired I’m currently doubting your ability to get out of this building, much less get yourself back to your apartment, fed, and to sleep. And besides,” he added, ushering Josh out the door and into the dim hallway as he flicked off the lights behind them. “I like spending time with you. Even if it’s just watching you read, it beats sitting around at my apartment by myself. And it definitely beats not seeing you for a month.”

“Hmmm,” Josh returned absently, blinking slowly as he attempted to keep himself upright. Sam may have a point about his inability to get himself home in his current state. Clearly Sam noticed this too because he chuckled and rested a hand on Josh’s back to guide him in the right direction. Josh was too tired to protest.

They made their way to the metro station in silence, and Sam dug around in Josh’s pocket for his wallet to take out his passbook. Josh slumped against his side once they were seated—it was late enough that the train was fairly empty—and Sam rested an arm over the backs of the seats.

“Hey, I need you to stay awake, Josh,” Sam prodded. Josh jerked up.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” he protested, even though he could feel himself nodding off again.

“Seriously dude, how much did you sleep last night?” Sam asked.

“I slept…”

“Josh.”

“I have…y’know…things to do, Sammy,” he argued. “I’ll sleep once everything for our portion of the budget it submitted. Christmas. I could sleep at Christmas. Probably.”

“Are you going home for Christmas?” Sam asked after a moment of silence.

“Just said, I’m gonna sleep during Christmas. Have to stay in town just in case they need something. Plus my family doesn’t really celebrate Christmas.”

“So you’re…here?”

“I said I was,” Josh confirmed sleepily. “Are you going home?”

“Me? Oh, um, no,” Sam stuttered. “Thought about it, but I was just there for Thanksgiving. It doesn’t make much sense to fly all the way across the country again. So I’ll be here, too.”

“Huh,” Josh responded. Something about Sam’s tone was off, just a bit, but he was way too tired to even begin to pick apart what could be behind his friend’s words, so he just let it pass. “Should come over. There’ll be like, basketball and stuff. Christmas movies. Could order a pizza. Or cook. I mean, you could cook. I can’t cook.” He paused for a minute. “Fuck, I’m tired.”

“I can tell,” Sam laughed, poking Josh’s side to snap him back into focus again. “We’re almost to your stop. Just another minute.”

It felt like a losing battle but somehow Josh managed to stay awake long enough for Sam to haul him off the train and the two of them walked mechanically towards Josh’s apartment. It was nearing midnight now, and the streetlamps were getting blurry as Josh’s body fought to shut down. Sam’s arm solidly around his waist was the only thing keeping him tied to consciousness.

“Do you have your key?” Sam asked softly, and Josh startled as he looked up and realized they were standing in front of his building.

“Get your own key,” he grumbled nonsensically, unlocking the outside door.

Sam laughed, but commented something along the lines of “I’d love to have my own key, but that’s a discussion for another day.” 

They finally made it upstairs and Sam helped him to the couch before he collapsed on his feet. He disappeared for a minute and returned with a glass of water and hastily thrown together half-sandwich (and that alone was a sign of the change Sam had brought to his daily life; a year ago Josh would never have had food in his house for a late night dinner), which he offered to Josh and stood patiently by until Josh had finished the whole thing, despite not being all that hungry. Sam was adamant that eating regularly was necessary for performing at his best. Josh had learned that it was easier not to argue.

“Do you need help getting into bed?” Sam asked, after he had returned the glass to the kitchen.

“’M not a child,” Josh grumbled.

“True, but I also happen to know you fell asleep on the couch last night and you really need a couple hours in bed,” Sam returned.

“I didn’t…” Josh abandoned his protest when Sam shot him a look indicating that any lie he tried to craft would be half-formed at best and he shouldn’t waste his energy. “I can get myself into bed. You should go home, you need to sleep too.”

“I’m not the one who’s gonna be up at five tomorrow,” Sam reminded him. “And I slept in a bed last night.”

“Shut up,” Josh huffed, standing shakily to convince Sam—and himself—that he wasn’t stuck there for the rest of the night. He swayed a bit once he was upright, and Sam reached out a hand to steady him.

“Take care of yourself please,” Sam pleaded. “I’d like to keep you around for a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Josh placated, but he smiled. He wasn’t used to smiling this much, especially in the midst of so much stress and exhaustion, but it was involuntary when Sam was around.

“You sure you can make it to bed?” Sam asked one more time and Josh rolled his eyes.

“Yes. Now get out of here,” he instructed. “You need to get some rest if you’re gonna drag my sleepy ass home every night.”

“Every night,” Sam confirmed. “See you tomorrow?”

“I have no doubt,” Josh agreed. “G’night, and, y’know, thanks.”

Sam smiled softly, mixed with something Josh’s fried brain couldn’t recognize, and pulled him into a hug. Josh melted into the contact, arms draped loosely over Sam’s shoulders as he rested his head on the other man’s shoulder. 

“You got this,” Sam whispered, and Josh nodded. They pulled apart after a moment, and Sam ruffled a hand through Josh’s hair as he stepped away. “Now go to bed.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Josh mocked. Sam showed himself out and Josh just barely managed to drag himself to his room before he collapsed for the night, still in his clothes.

This was how the month went. It seemed like the more Josh had to do the more Sam was in his space, and the less he minded Sam in his space. The second week of December he gave Sam an extra key to his apartment.

“An early Christmas present?” Sam had joked.

“Honestly it’s a miracle I haven’t locked myself out yet,” Josh reasoned. “It’s probably a good idea that someone else has a key, y’know, just in case.” Sam hadn’t said much in response, but when he’d gotten out of a meeting the next morning there was a key to Sam’s apartment on his desk, too.

Sam immediately abused his key privileges, not that Josh had expected anything else, but on the flip side, the fridge was always stocked despite Josh never being home so he figured he came out ahead in the whole situation.

Burns’ office submitted their last recommendations for the Democratic budget proposal on December 21st, and that was that. Christmas had come early and Josh was free. Sam took him out for drinks at the end of the day and Josh had a few too many beers and Sam had to help him get home again, but at this point that was as much a part of their routine as anything else. 

Winter in D.C. was cold, or at least colder than southern California, so Sam—who was usually the first to suggest spontaneous outings—showed up at Josh’s apartment in the mornings and didn’t leave until late into the night. Josh mentioned the irony of Sam constantly nagging him to get more sleep while showing up at ungodly hours demanding entertainment, but for some reason that was different and Josh had long ago learned to just go with it when it came to Sam.

Sam also hadn’t brought up his Christmas plans apart from that one sleepy conversation on the metro, which Josh found a little bit suspicious.

“You’re really not going home?” he asked again, a couple days before Christmas. Sam just shrugged.

“Not much point, right?” he brushed off, focused on the stupid rom-com they had settled on for lack of better option that neither of them was really paying attention to. “And you’re not going home either.” Josh didn’t push it, and they ordered a pizza.

It was also around that time that Josh realized he hadn’t gotten Sam a Christmas present. 

In his own defense, he wasn’t used to buying people Christmas presents in general, it wasn’t something his family did, and he wasn’t entirely sure that he was expected to get Sam anything. He had never exchanged gifts with his friends for holidays before, not that he’d had many friends with whom to do so. And they just hadn’t been the kind of people to do that. But for some reason Sam struck him as the kind of person who would show up on Christmas morning with something he had spent weeks agonizing over, trying to make sure he had the exact right gift. And he wouldn’t expect anything in return, but Josh wanted to return the favor. 

If there was one thing Josh had learned about his friend, it was that when he cared, he cared a lot. He was friendly with everyone but only let a few people really into his life, and those people felt the full force of the caring and attention that Sam possessed. Despite his complaints, Josh felt fortunate to be one of the people that Sam treated like that, and wanted to do everything in his power to show him that it went both ways. Other than his parents, Sam was the most important person in Josh’s life, and the least he could do was get him a Christmas present.

So at nine in the morning on December 24th, even before Sam could show up, Josh tugged on his winter coat and trudged out into the cold in search of some way to express his appreciation for his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact i wrote this chapter months ago and then i listened to ben platt's album and realized that this chapter is literally just share your address...so yall should go listen to it its a banger and also sam @ josh this whole time
> 
> hope you enjoyed, let us know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

**SAM**

There were so many things swirling around Sam’s mind as he made his way to Josh’s place on Christmas Eve that he barely even registered the snow. He was thinking about the butterflies he got when Josh had sleepily called him Sammy. He realized that Josh probably hadn’t meant to, but it still gave him butterflies. Between his gloved fingers, he was rolling the key Josh had given him. Even though Josh had explained it away as a precaution, that gave him butterflies, too. He wasn’t thinking too hard about his parents anymore. Because he was thinking about the way Josh hadn’t moved when he’d let a hand drop to Josh’s thigh.

Shortly after he got off the Metro, he bumped right into Josh on the sidewalk in front of the apartment. 

“Hey, Sam!” Josh smiled. First, Sam noticed the way the sunset was reflecting in Josh’s eyes and making them look even more sparkly. Then he noticed a brown paper gift back in Josh’s bare hands that looked a little cold. And then he noticed the big, fat, white snowflakes in Josh’s hair and polka-dotting his black coat. 

“Hey!” Sam replied gleefully, “It’s snowing!” 

“Yeah,” Josh chuckled, “Yeah, it has been.” 

“What’s that?” Sam asked pointing at a little gift bag in Josh’s hand. 

“It’s... nothing,” Josh cleared his throat, “You coming in or…?”

“Yes!” Sam grinned. 

They went in, chatting quietly about this and that. Josh tossed his coat over the sofa and the bag on the coffee table, and Sam put his grocery bags on the counter before hanging his coat and scarf on the back of the door and stuffing his gloves in his coat pockets. His hand hit the little box in one of the pockets, and his excitement took over.

“Got you something,” he said, pulling out the box. 

“Whu?” Josh spun around from the living room. Sam took him in in his dark red sweater and jeans. He liked getting to see Josh like this. Casual and a little scruffy with soft five o’clock shadow. 

“I got you a secular wintertime holiday gift,” Sam held up the box.

Josh opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he grabbed the bag again and said, “I got you a...Christmas present.” 

“You did?” Sam tipped his head warmly. Josh nodded and Sam moved over to him. They plopped on the couch facing each other, and Sam shifted a little before extending the box out to Josh. Propping and elbow on the back of the couch, Sam watched with his chin in his palm as Josh turned the box around in his hands before caustically asking, “Did you get me jewelry?” 

“No,” Sam replied, “Not really.”

Josh opened the box and went quiet, dropping his jaw slightly. 

“My father always says every man needs a good pair of cufflinks,” Sam said softly, “And you didn’t have any, so…”

“Sam…” Josh breathed. 

“They’re 18 karat white gold with raw lapis lazuli from Syria and…” Sam started. 

“Sam, I can’t accept these,” Josh whispered.

Sam chuckled a little, “Yes you can,” he said softly, “It’s rude to not accept a gift.”

“Sam, can you take these back?” Josh held them out gingerly with a slight look of panic in his eyes, as if he was holding a detonated bomb that would go off with the wrong touch. 

“Do you not like them?” Sam asked quietly, searching Josh’s face, “I can trade them.” 

“No...no... Sam, I….” Josh stammered, “Can you still get your money back?”

“Josh,” Sam laughed lightly at Josh’s expense, “They’re not… it’s not like I… I didn’t have to dip into my savings or anything. They’re just cufflinks.” 

“No they’re not, Sam, they’re _ nice _ cufflinks!” Josh said, “Cufflinks that don’t belong on shirts from the discount rack at Macy’s.” 

“Well, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Sam looked at his hands, “I just wanted to get you… I don’t know, I wanted to get you something special, because… you mean a lot to me.” 

Josh let out a low, deep breath before turning to carefully set the box on the coffee table and pick up the bag. 

“I… I didn’t get you anything… even a little bit…” he said softly, not looking Sam in the eye as he handed him the brown paper bag, “Yeah.” 

Sam smiled and took the bag in his hands, pulling away the white tissue paper and taking out a maroon leather bound book. He propped it on his lap, Josh looking at him intently, as he ran his fingers across the faded golden designs and letters of _ The Old Curiosity Shop. _ He tweaked a smile and looked up at Josh, “You got me vintage Dickens?” 

“I know, it’s dumb, I’m sorry…” Josh rambled, his eyes scanning the ceiling and then his shoes. 

“Josh…” Sam whispered, “You remembered my favorite writer. I said that… a month and a half ago.” 

“Well, I just saw it in the rare book store on the corner and thought of you,” Josh swallowed.

“You thought of me?” Sam could feel his eyes pricking with tears. 

“I know it’s kinda corny, it’s…” Josh sighed, “But because, y’know. You said Charles Dickens is your favorite and well, your curiosity is basically the whole reason we’re friends, so it seemed fitting.” He cleared his throat and went on, “Sorry. It’s tacky, it’s dumb, I’m sorry I couldn’t afford to get you something nice, but…” 

“No, Josh. I love it.” Sam interrupted with a teary smile, wiping his eyes, “It’s…like, the most thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me.” 

“I um… I wrote a thing in the uh…” Josh gestured for him to open the book. Sam did and his breath hitched in his throat as he traced the pretty red marbled binding inside, covered in Josh’s chicken scratch. He’d clearly hastily written it at the store before closing it and tucking it back in the bag, because the ink was runny and smudged. But Sam could still read it. He’d grown accustomed to Josh’s messy penmanship these past months. _ To my first best friend, to a brilliant wordsmith, to the most infectiously curious mind I know, for the first of what I hope to be a great many holidays in each other’s lives. I don’t know if I believe in kindred spirits, but if I did, you would be mine. Merry Christmas, Sam. Your devoted friend, Josh. _

Sam’s heart was pounding, and all he could do was hold the book up to his chest and look at Josh with a grin. Before he could stop himself, he’d flung his arms around Josh’s neck in an unexpected embrace. Josh made a little startled sound, but let the hug commence without protest, saying in a soft sort of mix of sincerity and his trademark sarcasm, “Well, I guess I did okay with the whole present thing.”

The evening went by as they’d planned. Sam made them Christmas Eve dinner while Josh got in his way in the kitchen. They ate and talked about the budget proposals and the WTO battle that would be greeting them after the break and all of the Christmas letters Sam had had to draft for the Congresswoman’s biggest donors. Josh had mocked how seriously Sam had taken the assignment, but he ended up looking at Sam with those big brown eyes the whole time he was talking about the letters. 

“What?” Sam finally asked when Josh had gone particularly quiet and wide-eyed. Josh just blinked, so Sam glances away and added, “I know, it sounds pretty frivolous when I talk about it out loud...”

“N-no,” Josh chuckled and looked back down at his plate, “No, it doesn’t.”

They drank hot cocoa on the couch over a rerun of last week’s _ Saturday Night Live. _ Josh got excited when Dennis Miller mentioned Congressman Burns on Weekend Update (he jolted up and flailed for Sam’s arm, “shh shh this is it! This is when he mentions my boss, stop talking!” making Sam practically have to catch his mug). 

“That’s pretty funny!” Sam conceded raising an eyebrow.

“No, that’s not the point!” Josh sat back, “He mentioned my boss.” 

Sam smiled at him and took a sip of his hot chocolate, suddenly feeling hyper-aware that their knees were now touching. As Josh returned his attention to the TV, Sam tried to focus on the sketches, rather than trying to determine how much he could get away with pressing his knee incrementally higher up Josh’s leg. He couldn’t distinguish which warmth in his belly was from the cocoa and which was from the fact that his stomach was turning somersaults. After a side-splitting laugh at Joan Cusack that prompted Sam to cover his mouth with his hand, he let his hand accidentally on purpose fall to Josh’s knee. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Josh look at the spot where his hand fell and then look back at the TV. But he didn’t pull away. So he left his hand there for the rest of the show. Even though he really had to pee. 

When the end credits started scrolling, Sam was squirming in his seat, but was afraid if he got up, he wouldn’t be able to find a good excuse to keep touching Josh when he came back from the bathroom. Josh solved that problem for him by stretching his arms up and over his head, back and against the top of the sofa before hopping up and crossing to the window.

“It’s coming down pretty bad now,” he said with something of a yawn, rolling his shoulders up and over. Sam couldn’t move his eyes from Josh’s shoulder blades poking the knitted red fabric that tugged at his back.

Swallowing hard, Sam managed, “I guess I should probably try to get home, then.” He tipped to see Josh’s face in the black reflection of the window, squinting hard at the street. 

“I dunno, Sam, it looks like there’s black ice out there,” Josh said, “Don’t want your California ass slipping and falling because you don’t know how to walk in the snow.” 

Sam felt himself turning pink. Was Josh about to ask him to stay the night? Even just as a practicality. It made him tingle. He was glad Josh was focusing on the falling snow.

“You know I lived in New Jersey for four years, right?” Sam chuckled, adjusting to sit on his feet, “I have actually _ seen _ the snow.”

“Alright, smartass,” Josh snickered, “I’m just saying this is a blizzard, and I don’t want to have to go out there in the middle of it and collect you when you face plant into the ice.” 

“It’s not that bad,” Sam protested, running out of ways to feign not wanting to stay, standing to join Josh at the window, “Okay, so it’s pretty bad.” 

“That’s what I’m saying,” Josh didn’t move. The chill from the window was drowned out by the warmth of their arms brushing together, “Just crash on the couch. You can head out tomorrow once it’s melted a bit.” 

Sam nodded, and Josh turned to look at him. Their faces were very close together. That’s when Josh finally snapped away and crossed back to the sofa saying, “It’s pretty comfy, I mean, I’ve slept off many the hangover on here.” 

“Well.. thank you,” Sam stumbled, flustering off the feeling of having had Josh’s nose that close to his, “Can I… borrow a toothbrush and take a shower?” 

Josh showed him where everything was and then shrugged and shuffled back to the living room. Sam couldn’t help but smile at all the mangled toothpaste tube that looked like it had lost a few too many fights with Josh, the little hotel shampoos and conditioners lining the shower, and the rusty razor that hadn’t been touched in weeks sharing the soap dish with an empty bottle of shaving cream. The thought that crossed his mind was _ I’m in love with an absolute slob. _ And it surprised him a little, but then it just made him grin in the thick steam. He got out and dried off in a scratchy blue towel, wrapping it around his torso, and poked out to the living room where Josh was planted in front of the news calling, “Josh? Can I borrow something sleep in?” 

Josh nodded silently and disappeared to his bedroom, returning with a faded Harvard Law sweatshirt and a pair of baggy flannel pajama pants, looking past him to the TV. Sam slipped back into the bathroom and changed into them, stopping for a second to smell Josh’s cheap cologne and just the way he smelled at the end of the day on the collar. He had to tug the elastic ties on the pants a little bit, and they still fell low on his hips, but he kind of liked it. He kind of liked feeling just a little swallowed by Josh’s clothes. He wiped off his glasses and _ tried _ to get his hair to cooperate, but he didn’t have his good brush, and sections of it just wouldn’t lie flat. Maybe he spent a little too long trying to get it to lie flat because it was starting to seem like it was getting worse every time he ran a hand over it, so he finally decided to give up before he messed it up entirely. He hoped Josh would still be too engrossed in the TV to notice.

They watched a couple more hours of news with a couple of beers each until they both couldn’t stop yawning. Josh went in and out of his bedroom, tossing Sam a pillow and a fuzzy grey blanket with thick cables. A gift from a grandmother, no doubt. Throwing a quick goodnight over his shoulder, Josh was back in his room in a blink, leaving Sam feeling a little warm and breathless. With a deep inhale, he snuggled into the blanket, smiling to himself, each sense positively overwhelmed by _ Josh_. He didn’t remember when he fell asleep, but before he did, he spent what could have been ten minutes and what could have been two hours on his back, holding _ The Old Curiosity Shop _ above his face, silently running his hands over Josh’s inscription. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas to everyone who has been following along with our little story. We love you and hope you have a great holiday. Josh's POV of their Christmas together is coming New Year's Eve, so be sure to come back soon!  
This is Sam's last chapter of 2019, so full disclosure from one of your co-authors.... 2019 has been a pretty rough year for me, and being a part of this fandom and finding so many fellow gay West Wing pals and writers provided such a lovely distraction for me during times I couldn't deal with the real world this year. So I'm very grateful to this little community of LGBTQ+ political junkies for providing a such a fun escape. Glad that I can give back with this fic, which has a lot of projection and was very cathartic to write for me.  
Thank you to all my fandom friends for being so supportive. I'm sorry I've dropped the ball on communicating since I moved, but hopefully, you're enjoying this story and it can be how I contribute to the fandom.  
Happy New Year and lots and lots of big hugs and endearing nicknames from your favorite lesbian Sam,  
LP


	10. Chapter 10

**JOSH**

Josh closed his bedroom door behind him and collapsed against it, realizing too late that Sam probably could’ve heard the thump from the living room.

That was…not at all how he had expected the night to go.

Everything had been fine. Great, in fact. They had exchanged gifts and as it turned out, Josh wasn’t completely awful at this whole Christmas thing, even if he still felt completely inadequate compared to the cufflinks that Sam had obviously taken great care to pick out—cufflinks that matched Sam’s eyes, Josh had noticed, and why was he noticing things like that?—Sam had seemed to really like the book Josh had bought earlier in the day, and that was what really mattered.

They had spent the afternoon and evening as they often did, close together on the couch, laughing over shows that they probably shouldn’t find funny, and when Josh had noticed the snow it really hadn’t seemed like a big deal to ask Sam to stay the night.

That was about where the wheels fell off the wagon.

Josh hadn’t dated too much in college. He had gone on a few dates here and there, but would always back out before things became serious. His roommates used to talk about the girls they brought home, and Josh would smile and nod like he understood, when in reality the few times one of his dates had ever kissed him had been among the most uncomfortable experiences of Josh’s life. He had figured he just hadn’t met the right girl yet, it wasn’t a cause for worry.

But seeing Sam Seaborn standing in his apartment, still glistening from the shower and clad only in a towel that fell a little too low on his hips, had sparked something in Josh that he had never felt before. He had no idea what to make of it.

That was a lie. He knew what to make of it. He just…couldn’t. He wasn’t…that. This had to be some sort of mistake. A fluke. It was…this was Sam. Sam was his best friend. That’s all this was. He had never had a best friend before, how was he supposed to know what it felt like? For all he knew this was completely normal. Friendship stuff.

Except that was a lie too. Josh wasn’t that clueless. He read books, he watched movies, he had heard what it felt like. The fluttery feeling that he had been ignoring for probably months now. The way he found himself staring sometimes, like he couldn’t get enough of the bright blue in Sam’s eyes. The inexplicable pride he felt when Sam praised him.

The…heat…he had felt watching a stray drop of water roll down Sam’s torso.

He could deny it all he wanted—had been denying it—but that had gotten his attention. It was hard to ignore the noticeable tightening in his pants, which had taken a considerable amount of focus to get under control again before Sam reemerged from the bathroom. Fully clothed this time, but just as desirable, now that the desire had been awoken.

And even that could be dismissed as coincidence, just a symptom of being a healthy young man who hadn’t gotten laid, well, ever. Except that it was happening again, and there was only one image in his brain. 

God, how did he let this happen? He had been so happy. Really, genuinely happy for what felt like the longest time since he’d come to Washington. And just like that he was going to ruin it. Ruin it with this _ stupid _…

It wasn’t until a teardrop hit his clasped hands that Josh realized he was crying, or that he had sunk all the way to the floor, and if that wasn’t just the cherry on top of the pathetic sundae that he had become…

He had to pull himself together. Now. Sam was still in his living room, completely unaware of the pitiful, inappropriate thoughts Josh was having just on the other side of the door. Sam deserved better than that. Josh had always known that Sam deserved better than him, but this was just a step too far. Sam was…Sam was everything. _ God _ how did Josh let this happen?

He pulled himself to his feet with a shaky breath, careful to make as little noise as possible so that Sam wouldn’t know he was still up. He changed carefully into sweats, pointedly ignoring the fact that his body refused to cooperate with his brain, and curling in on himself under the covers.

That was where he really let the tears flow, frustration and sadness and anxiety bubbling over as his shoulders wracked with his sobs.

Even as he cried himself to sleep, the only image his pathetic brain could provide was of his best friend, water droplets falling from his tousled hair, and the towel slipping just a little…bit…

\--

It wasn’t awkward, per se, because Sam didn’t seem to detect a change. Or if he did, he ignored it. He was his usually sunny self the next morning, if perhaps even a little bouncier than usual (Josh chalked it up to being a holiday, even if they weren’t officially celebrating anything). Sam literally bounced around the kitchen as he made them breakfast with the groceries he had brought yesterday, and Josh avoided eye contact at all costs.

He also ignored the shock of electricity that shot through him when Sam passed him a fork and their fingers brushed.

Josh returned to work on December 26th because there was plenty of work to do. Not because he was desperate for a distraction. Not because he was avoiding Sam.

The building was mostly empty, nearly every member of Congress had gone back to their district for the week, and even most staffers were off visiting family. Josh tried not to think about how pathetic that made him. Just one more thing for him to not think about, apparently.

Somehow, Sam still managed to find him by noon. He came strolling into the office around lunchtime as if nothing was out of the ordinary, flopping down in an empty chair with a big grin.

“You weren’t at your apartment, so I figured you were here,” he explained without prompting.

“Hmmm,” Josh acknowledged, determinedly focused on the unimportant memo in front of him.

“Wanna get lunch? My treat,” Sam offered, and Josh physically winced at the honest excitement in the guy’s voice. As if getting lunch with Josh was the best part of his day. If he only knew…

“Wanna finish this,” Josh lied, gesturing vaguely to the various piles of nonsense on his desk, knowing full well that Sam would see right through him. Instead of arguing, though, Sam just shrugged and hopped up.

“I’ll come find you for dinner, then. It’s the day after Christmas, you’re not staying here past dinner,” he asserted, ruffling Josh’s hair as he passed back towards the door.

“Whatever,” Josh grumbled, turning his face to hide his blush at the casual touch. God, had Sam always done…that? He spent the next five hours brainstorming how to get out of meeting Sam for dinner. Not because he was avoiding Sam. He was just…not in the mood. Definitely not avoiding.

Finally around four he called Sam’s apartment to let him know that he was heading home, but he wasn’t feeling well and just wanted to rest.

“_ Do you want me to bring you something? _” the genuine concern in Sam’s voice just made Josh feel even worse.

Josh begged off and told him that he’d call him later. He didn’t expect Sam to actually leave him alone for more than a few hours, but he hoped he’d at least get the rest of the day to…whatever. He stayed at work for a few more hours before trudging home, the streetlights barely doing enough to warn him about the ice on the sidewalk. There was a part of Josh who wondered if it might be easier if he did slip on the ice and bash his head open. Maybe then he would just forget about all this. Or he’d be dead.

The next day brought a slight reprieve in that Congressman Burns would be returning to D.C. and Josh actually had a valid reason to be at work again. He spent the week between Christmas and New Years more or less holed up in either his office or his apartment, doing his best to avoid excessive interaction with Sam. That’s not to say he never saw the other man, Sam was nothing if not persistent, and he showed up at Josh’s office for lunch every day. Sometimes Josh managed to come up with an excuse (he strategically scheduled a few lunch meetings that he couldn’t get out of), others he sat quietly in the mess while Sam babbled on, paying less attention to the words than he was to the way they sounded when Sam said them.

Sam followed him home a few times, too, but Josh managed to keep it at that. Sam had looked disappointed each time, but never really said anything past that, and obviously Josh wasn’t about to initiate any further conversation.

On top of everything else, he felt guilty. It wasn’t Sam’s fault, yet he was the one left eating lunch by himself while Josh hid away, wallowing in his…issues. It wasn’t fair to Sam; Sam had been nothing but amazing to him in the months that they had known each other. But that was just the problem, wasn’t it? Sam was so bright and wonderful and caring and Josh hadn’t been prepared for the sheer force of him. What was the expression, about flying too close to the sun? That’s what it felt like, like he had flown too close to the sun and had caught fire. Completely.

So yeah, maybe he was avoiding Sam a little bit. But did it really count if Sam wasn’t making it easy? He wasn’t deterred. Any invitation Josh rejected, Sam came back with four more. Anyone else would have given up, decided that Josh wasn’t worth it. Part of Josh was surprised that Sam hadn’t, to be honest. He really wasn’t worth it. But that’s not how Sam was. Sam wouldn’t give up so easily. For whatever reason, he had chosen Josh as a person he cared about and now Josh was stuck with him. Not that he really wanted Sam to go anywhere, but it would sure make things a lot easier.

Which was really what it all came down to, wasn’t it? He cared about Sam. A lot. Sam was his best friend, and Josh had never had one of those before. He _ needed _ him. Physically needed him. Turning down an opportunity to spend time with Sam made him ache, and spending this much time without him made Josh absolutely miserable.

He would just have to get over this…whatever it was. He refused to put a name on it. Putting a name on it would make it real. He just needed to…get used to it maybe? Get used to it and then figure out how to make it go away. There had to be a way. At the very least, time healed all, right? He just had to…hope it went away. It had to go away. It had to.

In the meantime, Sam was literally hanging off his right side, trying to hurry him up at work so they could go to dinner, the first invitation Josh hadn’t been able to wiggle out of in nearly two weeks. Josh didn’t nudge him away, just put on what he hoped was an unaffected face as he scribbled notes in the margins of a policy speech Burns wanted ready when the House convened again the first week of January.

“You don’t _ have _ to,” Sam whined. “You could do it tomorrow! Or even the next day! Come on Josh, I know you don’t really have that much work to do this week. Do you know how I know? I asked your boss. And he called you a workaholic who would die an early death. Do you want to die an early death?”

“Sounds good to me right about now,” Josh grumbled, and Sam lightly smacked the side of his head. 

“Stop that,” he scolded. Josh rolled his eyes and tried not to blush. He had been doing that a lot lately.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Josh huffed, tossing his pen on his desk and watching it roll away from him. “Let’s go.”

Sam had somehow made it across the room and back in the last two seconds and was standing there with his coat open, ready to help Josh into it. Josh took it from him and shrugged it on himself, pointedly avoiding eye contact and pretending he didn’t like the idea of Sam being chivalrous with him.

Sam chattered the entire way to Hawk’n’Dove, which had quickly become their usual hangout when Sam wasn’t in the mood to cook. Neither of them mentioned Josh’s detachment, and Josh wasn’t sure if it was because Sam didn’t notice or if he was avoiding the topic too. Truthfully he hoped it was the first; he didn’t think Sam would let them go too long without discussing if he suspected there was a problem.

Josh ordered them each a beer and a burger and tried his best to concentrate on the actual words coming from Sam’s mouth rather than the shape Sam’s mouth made while he says them. Which led to him focusing on Sam’s eyes instead. Had they always been so blue? God, _ so _ not the time.

“Josh?”

Sam was looking at him with amusement, and Josh felt his face go hot.

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Josh tried to act like he had been listening the whole time, though he knew he was less than convincing. Sam gave him a look but kept talking.

This wasn’t working. God, if he avoided Sam, he was sad. If he spent time with Sam, he made a fool of himself. Maybe he should just throw himself off the top of the Washington Monument or something.

Shaking his head slightly, he refocused his attention on Sam and tried desperately to listen to what he was saying. Sam could talk for hours, but at some point Josh should probably participate in the conversation. Except suddenly he found himself worried about what he would say. His palms were sweaty and there were those damn flutters again, worrying that he would say the wrong thing and Sam would laugh at him or leave or worse…_ realize _.

Josh took a long sip of beer. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thereeee it is! josh's inner disaster gay has finally been awoken
> 
> hope everyone is having a good holiday season, here's to much more of these two in 2020!


	11. Chapet 11

**SAM**

It was January, and something had changed.

Washington was no longer covered in twinkly white lights or oversized wreaths or blankets of icy snow. The winter had shifted from being that yellowy glow of the holidays to the bleak grey-white of the start of a cold year. The moods around the Hill were no longer that of the excited buzz of the holidays bursting at the seams to just be done and get out. Now they were in the frozen foot-dragging of budget negotiations and the paralyzed feeling of standing at the bottom of a hill you were about to have to slog. 

But these weren’t the changes occupying Sam’s mind. It was Josh. At first he was just baffled as to why Josh had suddenly seemed to do a complete 180 on him. He couldn’t figure out why Josh would barely look him in the eye. He reasoned it had to be the new session. He was tired. Everyone was tired. Sam tried not to take it personally.

For the most part, trying not to take it personally worked pretty well. He just went on as usual. But one night when he himself was feeling particularly tired, all he wanted to do was flop on Josh’s couch and talk about the news with his guy. And Josh had shrugged him off when they got back to his place. So despite being pretty beat, he couldn’t fall asleep all night. Getting up and down, pacing around the creaky floors of his apartment, cleaning and re-cleaning his spotless little white kitchenette. Trying to track what had changed and when. When four o’clock appeared on his little alarm clock, he realized it was futile to try and go back to bed, so he made his coffee and sat on the couch with the news. As the steam fogged his glasses, it occurred to him that the first time he’d seen that little look of embarrassed confusion on Josh’s face—the same one he tried to hide when he told Sam he wasn’t in the mood to hang out—was on Christmas Eve when he’d opened the cufflinks. He truthfully hadn’t spent too terribly much on them. But he was also starting to get the sense of their differing backgrounds. Sam’s family was old California oil money. Josh was the grandson of Polish immigrants who had fled the Holocaust and the son of first generation college students who had worked for everything they had. So not spending too much for Sam looked different than not spending too much for Josh. If his first year out in the real world was teaching him anything, it was how much he had been able to take for granted. 

Maybe Josh was feeling embarrassed about the money. In hindsight, Josh balked at the cost of farmers’ market groceries, would often take a glance at his wallet before they went to Hawk’n’Dove, spending longer on the menu than Sam to check the prices, and he had looked at the cufflinks like he was looking at the crown jewels. Josh wasn’t poor. He just felt every penny of his government salary. And he had grown up in a family that had steadily pulled itself from lower middle class to middle class. Money just wasn’t something Sam had to think about. 

That had to be it, Sam decided as he got dressed for the day. Josh wasn’t just tired. He was feeling bad that, throughout their relationship, he hadn’t been able to afford to spend as much as Sam had. Christmas had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. But the truth was, Sam had been feeling a discrepancy in their gifts, not in the price, but in the thought. Sam had thought a little about what would look good with Josh’s clothes, but mostly he’d just wanted to get him something nice. Josh had seen something specific and thought of Sam, remembered a conversation, and written a personal note inside. He had to think of a way to show Josh he didn’t care about the money. It was just money. But even that thought was only the kind of thing that someone who grew up with money could say. 

Getting into work that day, he had firmly determined to figure out a way to counteract this without having to say anything about it that might embarrass Josh further. Between editing remarks for the Congresswoman, he was compiling a list of free things they could do around D.C. together, activities for which Josh wouldn’t have to check his wallet while Sam did not. 

By lunch, the list was three pages long. But he kept circling back to his first idea. He poked his head in Josh’s office. Mia was already on her lunch break, so he was able to slip in, looking at Josh for a few silent seconds. Watching him curled over his desk, the tension holding his shoulders high and stiff, Sam wondered how long it had been since Josh had last exhaled completely. Just completely emptied his lungs of whatever he was bottling up in there. 

“Josh?” he asked quietly, approaching his desk. Josh spun his head around with those big wide brown eyes, the ones Sam wanted to look into from a few inches away until they fluttered shut for sleep. 

“Hey, Sam,” he said on one of his half-exhales, not the kind that let his shoulders drop, “Didn’t hear you come in.” 

“You’re pretty engrossed,” Sam smiled, “What are you working on?” 

“Um,” Josh looked at his clunky computer, “I actually just got an e-mail from that EPA guy about… well, about our thing.” 

“Wait, what?” Sam tipped his head.

“The uh, the Endangered Species Act thing,” Josh said. 

“Really?” 

Josh nodded, and Sam moved around the desk to look over his shoulder, letting his chest press a little too close to Josh’s back. Just skimming the e-mail, Sam picked up lines like  _ appreciate your enthusiasm _ and  _ not really anything else we can do for the time being _ and  _ keep fighting the good fight.  _

“Is that it then?” Sam sighed.

Josh just shrugged, “I’m not giving up.” 

“Excellent,” Sam said letting his chin drop to Josh’s hair, “Because neither am I.”

Sam felt Josh’s whole body relax for a split second before going even more tense. Then he stood up and crossed over the one of the tall, messy bookshelves full of binders that had at one time had some kind of color coding system, but didn’t anymore. 

“So what’s up, Sam?” Josh asked clearing his throat and looking through the binders, “What can I do for you?”

“Have you been to the Botanical Gardens?” Sam went on eagerly, despite Josh’s stressed tone. 

“No,” Josh didn’t look up from whatever he was reading, facing the shelf, his shoulders still radiating the same thing that made the circles under his eyes look ever darker. 

“I went there on a field trip when I was a kid,” Sam said, “And again when I first got here. It’s really quite lovely, and they have it at a warm temperature for the tropical plants. We should go!”

“Sure, yeah, I'm sure I'll get around to it,” Josh dismissed. 

“I mean today!” Sam said, “Right now.” 

Josh shut his binder and looked up, but not at Sam, “You mean... give up my lunch break, to go look at a bunch of flowers?”

“And trees,” Sam added, “And cacti.” 

With a sigh, Josh turned to look at him, a glimpse of a dimple betraying that he was more amused by the notion than anything. 

“Fine,” Josh gave in as always, tucking the binder back on the shelf, “Let me get my coat.”

When they got there, the warm, damp air of the giant greenhouse contrasted almost disorientingly with the sharp January sting of cold behind them. The woman at the front desk looked confused as to why anyone was there in the middle of winter when all the outside gardens were not blooming. She took their coats and scarves and suit jackets anyway. Stepping through the glass doors to the front garden, the one with long, bright blue pools and colorful fruit trees, Sam rolled up his sleeves to combat the heat.

“That’s more like it,” Sam felt himself say without even realizing it.

“Your California heart is just jumping for joy at my misery right now, isn’t it?” Josh mocked, loosening his tie, a curl already sticking to his forehead from the humidity. 

“It is!” Sam grinned.

“Schadenfreude isn’t a good look on you, Seaborn,” Josh tugged his collar, but a half-smile accompanied his comment, so Sam just grinned again and beckoned him to the back where the different themed gardens were.

They moved through the gardens, Josh trying to look interested as Sam read each plaque about each plant, getting increasingly giddy at each section. They had the place to themselves and it was silent and toasty and full of so many colors that Sam hardly knew where to look. Rattling off facts about the desert life, the orchids, and the medicinal plants, Sam tried to get Josh to admit that this was all incredibly fascinating. But the more Sam got excited about what they were looking at, the harder Josh just laughed at him, dimples and all. So Sam was thinking this outing had been a success in bringing about a better mood for Josh, even if it was at his own expense. 

After they saw all the gardens in the loop of greenhouses downstairs, Sam practically bounded back to the main floor where there was a set of rickety stairs leading to a second deck where one could look down at the all of it from up in the trees. 

“Now seems like as good a time as any to mention that I’m marginally afraid of heights,” Josh said as they made their way up the narrow stairs. 

“It’s worth it!” Sam called behind him. Once they got to the little deck, Sam looked up and said, “See? Isn’t that something!” 

Josh stopped to look upward, chocolate eyes huge under his eyelashes, lips slightly parted in awe, mesmerized by the palm trees that reached up to gorgeous glass dome like people’s arms reaching to the clouds. Seeing another plaque, Sam crossed the deck to read about a giant green and yellow palm that almost looked like it was sprouting a huge pineapple. Then he looked out over the palms and ferns and flowers below, letting out an exhale. The kind that let his shoulders drop.

“That’s amazing!” Sam cried, “We have our own private rainforest. Just for us.” 

When Josh didn’t say anything, Sam turned back to him. And Josh wasn’t looking up anymore. That same mesmerized gaze had landed straight ahead. It had landed on Sam. Josh was looking at him from across the deck like they weren’t surrounded by the world’s most exquisite flora. Like Sam was the only thing to look at. Like nothing that the Earth or anyone in it could make would have torn his eyes away. 

Oh. 

Blushing lightly under Josh’s intense, silent stare...that’s when it clicked. Josh wasn’t tired or extra stressed or embarrassed about their financial differences. Josh loved him. Because standing in that gaze, Sam felt like he might as well have been the most exquisite flora the world had to offer. Because Josh looked at him like he had never seen something more beautiful. And Sam smiled. And just looked right back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's hoping the level of gayness makes up for the lateness of my posting.
> 
> This was hands-down my favorite chapter to write, so I hope you love it.   
-LP


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, this one got away from me a bit. youre welcome. enjoy.

**JOSH**

Operation Get-Over-Sam (which Josh had definitely _ not _ been calling it in his head) had pretty much been a bust so far. Apparently now that he _ knew _, it was all he could think about. Suddenly he found himself staring at the slope of Sam’s jaw while they were sitting on the couch watching TV, or mesmerized by the blue of his eyes sitting across from him at dinner, or—one time—admiring the way Sam’s ass was shaped by a particularly snug-fitting pair of jeans. Definitely not things one would notice in a friend.

And Sam was _ touching _ him all the time. Constantly. If they were sitting together on the couch, Sam would press as close against Josh’s side as he could, sometimes going so far as to rest a hand on his thigh. If he was waiting for Josh at work, he would either wait in a chair positioned just to Josh’s side, so that Sam could almost rest his chin on Josh’s shoulder, or would stand behind him, hands gently touching his arms. Walking home from the metro, their hands would brush together occasionally, and Josh found himself torn between jerking away and just grabbing his hand.

Maybe Josh just hadn’t noticed it before, but Sam had no concept of personal space whatsoever. Having Sam not only there—because Josh had quickly accepted that avoiding Sam wasn’t an option—but _ there _, physically on top of him in some cases, did nothing to help his mission. It was nearly impossible to get over someone when that someone was basically sitting in your lap, and when you never wanted that person to move.

It was at work where Josh found it most problematic. He usually considered himself to be very professional, his job came first, and his persona of steady congressional staffer took precedence over whatever emotional turmoil he was facing in his personal life. But Sam would come in for lunch or at the end of the day or whenever he had a free minute or whenever he was avoiding something he really didn’t want to do and it took every bit of willpower Josh had to concentrate on the task at hand. He was certain that Mia had caught him gazing at Sam’s profile on at least one occasion, one of the times where Sam had just brought some work into Burns’ suite because apparently if he was going to work quietly he’d rather do it sitting next to Josh than at his own desk.

That was another thing. Sam always wore his heart on his sleeve, it was one of the things Josh loved most about him (and he had to be _ very _ careful using that word in reference to Sam), but his blunt earnestness sometimes left Josh feeling a bit…not uncomfortable, but uncomfortable with how happy it made him.

“You’re my favorite person,” Sam would remind him almost daily, usually when they were sitting too close together on the couch at the end of the evening, the news turned off in favor of some sort of nighttime talk show. Josh would nod and try not to blush, and Sam would scooch just a little bit closer. 

Josh jumped when he felt a hand graze the back of his neck. He tilted his head up to acknowledge the figure standing behind him, a dorky smile on his face that made Josh’s heart stutter in his chest. He schooled his expression into one of mild amusement, raising a questioning eyebrow at his friend.

“Here to drag me out on another lunchtime excursion?” Josh laughed, and he swore Sam’s cheeks colored a bit at the question.

“How about just lunch?” Sam offered. “Got an hour to spare?”

“And if I did, what makes you think I’d wanna spend it with you? I could take a nap or something!”

“He’s free, get him out of here!” Mia called from her desk near the front door. Josh poked his head around Sam to glare at her. Traitor.

Sam was undeterred. “C’mon, there’s a little Italian place a few blocks away that has a lunch special.” As a general rule, Josh couldn’t say no to Sam, so he put his coat on and allowed Sam to guide him with a hand on his back into the cold January wind.

“A few blocks away” turned out to be closer to a mile hike from the Capitol building and by the time Sam was holding the door to a little storefront, Josh’s teeth were chattering as he burrowed deeper into his collar.

“I told you to get a hat,” Sam scolded as Josh rubbed his hands over his red cheeks.

“I have a hat,” Josh argued.

“Then wear it. It doesn’t do you any good if you leave it at home.”

“Yes mom,” he huffed back. The inside of the restaurant was significantly warmer, and Josh quickly shrugged off his thick winter coat as the maître d’ led them to a small table in the middle of the room. It was a small dining area, only about ten or so tables in total and Josh could see the door in the back that led to the kitchen. It was far enough off the beaten path that even at noon it wasn’t busy, only about half full, and none of the other diners appeared to be Washington elites. He wondered how Sam had even found this place.

Sam pulled out the chair closest to them and gestured for Josh to sit down, which he did, and Sam took the seat across from him. The waiter filled their glasses with water as he handed them menus and left them alone again. Josh took a quick glance at the menu, eyes scanning over the unfamiliar words.

“Is this in Italian?” Josh asked, looking up at Sam in confusion.

“Parts of it are,” Sam replied, gaze fixed on his own menu. “But the ingredients are in English, and pasta and pizza are the same in pretty much every language, so I think you should be okay.”

Josh took another look at the page in front of him and realized that Sam was right; apart from unfamiliar accents and almost every word ending with a vowel, the words were pretty easy to understand. He scanned the menu again and noticed another problem.

“They don’t have…just plain pasta? Or like pepperoni pizza or something?”

Sam sighed and looked up at him in exasperation, but he was smiling.

“Are you kidding me right now?” he asked. “Josh, you can’t go to an Italian restaurant and order a pepperoni pizza!”

“I do it all the time!” Josh protested.

“Ordering pizza is not the same thing as an Italian restaurant. Do you want me to order for you?” Josh began to argue but Sam continued, “I know what you like, Josh, can you just trust me?”

Josh couldn’t say no to that, so he just nodded silently and put his menu down in front of him while Sam finished making the decisions. When the waiter came back a few minutes later, Sam ordered them garlic focaccia to share, something that sounded vaguely like a salad (Josh hoped for himself), and a pizza. He didn’t think Sam spoke Italian, but the words rolled off his tongue so beautifully that Josh thought about encouraging him to take the language up. Or maybe they’d just have to go to more Italian restaurants.

“What did you get me?” Josh asked skeptically when the waiter had walked away again. Sam smirked.

“You’re just going to have to wait and see, now aren’t you?” he taunted playfully.

“_ Sam _…”

“Seriously Josh, you trust me right? I wouldn’t get you something I don’t think you’ll like,” Sam promised. “Even if you have the taste buds of a five year old.”

“Well I’m sorry we didn’t all grow up in southern California, fancy boy,” Josh grumbled.

“The fact that you walk into an actual restaurant at the age of twenty-six and want to order something that lots of places wouldn’t even put on the kids menu is just sad,” Sam lamented. “I swear to god, Josh, I’m going to make you start eating like an adult. Starting with this.”

“What were all the farmers’ market trips then?” Josh countered. “I’ve eaten like…actual vegetables for you.”

“And for that, I’m truly grateful,” Sam rolled his eyes. “But that was just a warmup. I’m going to introduce you to a whole new world of culinary delights.”

“Is that dork speak for ‘make me eat fancy food’?”

“It is,” Sam confirmed, then he softened a bit. “Is that okay?”

Josh smiled. “Yeah. I trust you.” And he did. Totally and completely. True, he tended to live off of frozen dinners and takeout when left to his own devices, but in the almost half a year that he’d known Sam he’d already found himself trying things he never would have before. Like brussels sprouts. Which were actually not all that bad when Sam made them. So if Sam promised him he would like something, Josh believed him.

That extended to other areas of life too, though that trust hadn’t been put to the test nearly as much quite yet. But just last week, Sam had dragged him to look at fucking _ plants _ of all things on his lunch break and Josh couldn’t even pretend that it hadn’t been one of the best afternoons of his life. Plants were still dumb, but the awe on Sam’s face as he geeked out over the different types of flowers had been more than worth the trip. And the way Sam had looked against the backdrop of greenery had taken Josh’s breath away.

So yeah, at this point, Josh was prepared to do pretty much anything Sam asked of him.

The pizza that arrived at their table a few minutes later—along with Sam’s salad—was not at all what Josh had expected. For one, it was tiny. It fit on a plate all by itself, and came with a dinner knife to cut it into whatever size slice he wanted. It wasn’t covered in cheese like the pizza Josh had eaten before, instead was covered in a thin layer of sauce, and the cheese was in neat, white little circles all over the dough. There were also thin slices of tomato and little shreds of green on top of the pizza.

Josh studied his plate for a moment before looking up to ask Sam what the _ hell _ was in front of him, but Sam beat him to it.

“Pizza margherita. Tomato sauce, mozzarella cheese, tomato slices, and basil. There’s nothing on there you don’t like, now eat.”

Josh blinked a few times and lifted the knife to cut a slice. “I don’t like tomato,” he grumbled, starting to pick around the red topping.

“Yes you do,” Sam replied around a mouthful of salad. “Stop examining your food, and eat it like an adult.”

“Fine,” Josh huffed, taking a bite with as little tomato as he could. To his surprise, it was unlike anything he had ever tasted before. The tomato was a sweet contrast to the cheese and basil, it was still warm and fresh and _ so _ much better than anything Josh had ever had delivered. “Oh my _ god _ ,” he groaned, closing his eyes as he chewed. “This is amazing. How can you stand the stuff I buy when you know _ this _ exists?”

Sam didn’t respond right away and Josh opened his eyes to see Sam’s reaction, but Sam didn’t appear to have heard him. Or rather, Sam didn’t appear to be listening to him. The other boy was frozen with his fork midair, spinach leaves falling back to the plate, and his mouth slightly agape, eyes trained solidly on Josh.

Josh blinked in confusion. Did he have something on his face? He quickly wiped his mouth with his napkin and the movement seemed to break Sam out of whatever trance he had fallen into, his face breaking into a smirk as he filled his fork up again.

“Told you,” he bragged, and Josh rolled his eyes and continued eating.

The rest of lunch was fairly uneventful, though Josh could’ve sworn he had caught Sam staring at him a few more times throughout the meal. When the check came at the end, Josh reached for his wallet but Sam slapped down his credit card before Josh had even found the right pocket, and adamantly refused Josh’s offer to pay his share. They took a cab back to the office (lunch had taken longer than they expected and there was no way Josh was walking in the cold again), and this time Josh was quicker with his wallet. Sam flushed a little but didn’t put up too much of a fight.

Sam walked him all the way back to his office, walking so close to Josh’s side that Josh could feel the heat coming off of him, even through their winter coats. His hand brushed against Josh’s, but Josh didn’t react (even though each light touch felt like a zap), and neither of them moved away. Sam stopped at the door to Burns’ office suite, and Josh turned to confirm Sam’s plans for the evening, when he caught Sam staring at him again.

This wasn’t the same blank look from the restaurant, though. This one was softer, his mouth relaxed into a smile and his eyes wide and earnest. Josh felt himself blush under Sam’s gaze and quickly broke eye contact. He jumped when Sam’s hand landed on his forearm, jerking his head back up to look at his friend, whose expression hadn’t changed at all.

“I had a really good time today, Josh,” Josh found himself taken aback by the intensity of Sam’s tone, like he was sharing with Josh a life-changing secret rather than a review of their most recent lunch excursion. 

“I did too,” Josh replied honestly, because he really did. He always enjoyed spending time with Sam, even if lately it felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest around the other man. And he hadn’t been exaggerating how much he enjoyed the pizza.

“I’ll…see you tonight?” Sam asked. Josh nodded and Sam rewarded him with his signature bright smile, the one that lit up Josh’s entire world, and he couldn’t help but return a grin of his own. Sam pulled him into a hug then, squeezing him tightly and releasing him almost before Josh even had a chance to reciprocate. With a nod, Sam turned and retreated down the hall, leaving Josh feeling more than a little dazed by the whole exchange.

He attempted to school his features into something slightly less school-girl-with-a-crush, but the look Mia shot him as soon as he stepped in the door indicated that he might not have been successful.

“Have a good lunch with your boy?” she asked casually.

“He’s not my boy,” Josh replied, smitten grin not leaving his face and he hung up his coat and attempted to refocus himself on his afternoon tasks.

“Sureee he’s not,” she didn’t sound at all convinced, not that Josh blamed her. He didn’t feel all that convincing, not when he could practically still smell Sam’s aftershave. But it’s not like that, he reminded himself. In fact, he was trying to do everything in his power (an admittedly poor attempt, but he was trying) to avoid it being like that. And even if he _ was _ like that, Sam definitely wasn’t. Sam was just being nice, spending some time with his friend, helping him discover Washington and taking him to restaurants and sights he never would have thought twice about otherwise. Grocery shopping and Saturday mornings making breakfast and late nights laughing over whatever bizarre show they had landed on that day. Tight hugs and gentle touches, and feet tangled together between them on the couch. Nothing even remotely…

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Josh’s pulse raced as the pieces began to fall together in his head. Could it be possible…no, what were the odds? And yet…

All this time he had spent agonizing over his feelings, trying to force them away, he hadn’t even considered another option. His first emotion had been panic, and Josh had spent the better part of the weeks since trying to move on from there. Move on. As if that was the only way this ended. 

When he really stepped back and thought about everything they did, things that had become part of their daily routine together, the gazes that Josh was now even more sure he hadn’t been imagining, there was…well, there was probably more than one possible explanation, but only one that made itself known over all the others. Josh didn’t find that prospect as terrifying as he might have thought.

“Mia!” he called, and the redhead raised an eyebrow at him. “My boy…?” Mia just rolled her eyes fondly and turned back to her computer, and that told Josh everything he needed to know.

Sam liked him.

He liked Sam.

Now he just had to decide what to do with that information.

\--

Sam met him in his office around six like he did every evening, and this time Josh paid close attention to everything the other man did. The way he leaned against Josh’s arm as he stood there waiting, something that Josh previously hadn’t thought anything of, now seemed like the most significant thing in the world. Sam helped him into his coat and today Josh let him, taking extra care to brush his hand against Sam’s arm as it poked through the sleeve. Josh rested a hand against the small of Sam’s back as they made their way to the metro, barely there but just there enough that maybe Sam would notice. Maybe Sam would say something.

He invited Sam up, and they dug through the fridge—now mostly stocked—for some leftover Chinese food and the ingredients for Sam to make a salad. Josh teased him about eating a salad at both meals, and Sam rolled his eyes and reminded him that he would have the last laugh with all the years he was adding to his life by eating healthy. Josh tried not to think about Sam still being there at the end of his life, that was probably about ten steps too far right now.

They ate on the couch, cable news on in the background as they caught up on anything they might have missed throughout the day, any major events that hadn’t circulated through their offices over the normal course of business. It was a slow day, and it wasn’t long before Sam was switching the channel to a college basketball game, two teams that Josh could care less about but Sam seemed vaguely interested in watching. Josh didn’t dislike sports per se, but other than the Mets and the occasional NFL game, he just found them tiring to follow. Sam could probably turn on a college softball game between two middle-of-nowhere schools and get invested by the second inning.

They had abandoned their plates on the end table and were sitting with their arms pressed together as had become their usual. Josh tried to watch the game, but Duke was up by almost twenty on Saint Louis, and if there was one thing he found less interesting than a random sporting event, it was a random sporting event that ended in a blowout. So while Sam watched the game, Josh let his mind wander.

He thought about how strange it was—but how natural it felt—that Sam kept groceries here. That Sam had organized his living room into something that resembled a civilized domicile. That they had already exchanged keys. That Sam kept a toothbrush in the bathroom, just in case he wanted to spend the night again.

He thought about how none of that had even struck him as strange until that moment, how he had gone on like this for months thinking this was how all close friends acted. He thought about how comfortable he was with Sam in his space like this. It had been only a few short weeks since his life-altering realization that his feelings for Sam were more than strictly friendship, but this physical proximity? This had been something they’d shared since nearly the beginning. Sam’s body against his side was a comforting presence, one that Josh found himself wanting to lean into.

It had been so easy between them, and this…_ whatever _ this thing was, had been there the whole time. So why couldn’t…what was stopping them from taking it a step further? Especially if that really was what they both wanted to do?

Well, a number of things, the remaining rational part of his brain reminded him. He had never heard of a gay congressional staffer, or a gay anything in his line of work. Surely there had been someone, somewhere along the line, but no one prominent enough to be considered a trailblazer. To come out would almost certainly be career suicide. They could always see each other in secret, pretend that nothing had changed, but then what? What sort of relationship—or whatever they might be—could truly work if it never saw the light of day?

Then there was always the matter of their friendship. Feelings or otherwise, Sam was the best friend Josh had ever had, and he doubted he’d meet anyone like Sam again. If they started something, and it fell apart and ruined their friendship, Josh would be even more lost than he had been before Sam came tumbling into his life. It almost didn’t seem worth it to take the chance.

Even more terrifying was the prospect that he was wrong. That Sam’s feelings for him were nothing more than friendly, and if Josh did try to push anything further, Sam would get freaked out, or worse, angry. Josh had fairly thick skin, but he didn’t think he could take that kind of rejection from Sam of all people.

Except…Sam shifted slightly so that his head was almost resting on Josh’s shoulder. Josh’s heart sped up and he knew in his gut that he couldn’t possibly be reading this wrong. This was…Sam wanted this too, Josh was sure of it. He could wait for Sam to make the first move, and wait and wait and wait, or he could take a risk for once. Sam’s hand was right there, not quite touching Josh, but close enough that Josh could touch if he wanted to. Something so unmistakable that they’d have no choice but to acknowledge this thing between them. He could link their hands together, finally establish the connection they both craved, and see where things went from there.

God, there were nearly a hundred different reasons not to be so reckless, to feel things out for a bit longer, to leave it up to Sam to decide. So much could go wrong, and Josh loved his life the way it was. He had never been this happy. To try anything with Sam now would put all that in jeopardy and for what? The one in a million chance that this could be the real thing?

He glanced down at Sam’s hand, catching the other man’s profile out of the corner of his eye. Sam’s shoulder was a safe weight against his, and just looking at him like this filled Josh with a feeling of warmth. Maybe it was stupid, but he liked him a lot. This was…this could be the real thing, and how would Josh feel if he let that slip away because he was too scared?

The more he thought about it, the harder the decision seemed to become. He was splitting hairs at this point, agonizing over the tiniest of details. If he was Sam, he might make a pros and cons list, all organized in a way that could help him work through his racing thoughts, but Josh wasn’t nearly that organized and his racing thoughts were all he had to work with, and he just had to hope that somehow, some way, they would sort themselves out.

There were less than two minutes to go in the game and Josh knew he needed to act fast. Once the game was over Sam would probably get up to put their dishes in the kitchen and think about heading home for the night, and the chance would be lost. Every second he spent not deciding was a decision on its own.

He let out a shaky breath and steeled himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave us a comment on how youre liking this so far!


	13. Chapter 13

**SAM**

Since that day at the Botanical Gardens, Sam’s list of things to do with Josh had shifted from free activities around Washington to romantic spots around Washington. He knew Josh well enough by now to know for a fact that Josh wouldn’t acknowledge what was happening between them until he was ready. If Sam made the first move, Josh would scare like a baby animal and run back under the bed. So he knew the first move–the first real move‒had to come from Josh. 

But that certainly didn’t mean he couldn’t nudge him in the right direction. 

He had caught himself letting more and more little comments pop out without holding them back (one morning he’d said that Josh was looking handsome, but the poor thing was already so distracted by his need for his first cup of coffee that he didn’t hear him). He no longer found himself looking for excuses to touch Josh, he’d just touch Josh. And when he dragged Josh out of his office, it wasn’t just to their usual bar or sandwich shop anymore. Namely, he dragged him on a date to a fancy Italian place that was on the top of his new list. 

It was getting to the point where Sam was having to exercise a great deal of restraint not to just say  _ fuck it _ and make the first move. Josh had been adorably inept and perplexed by his first taste of pizza that didn’t come in a greasy cardboard box. Sam had taken him in as he relished it with satisfied sounds, and he became intensely aware that he was staring, wondering what sounds Josh made when he had been satiated in an entirely  _ different _ way…

Outside Josh’s office, he’d had to actively hold himself back from reaching for Josh’s tie and gently tugging him into a slow, soft kiss and just getting lost in the taste of his lips and the seasonings from lunch. 

That evening, though, he was pretty certain his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him and that Josh was, in fact, beginning to return some of those touches he’d always given so freely. Sam felt a brush on the small of his back. Josh let Sam put his coat on him and seemed to lean into Sam’s touch. Walking out of the building, he felt Josh’s hand bump the back of his first, and when Sam practically curled next to him on the couch, Josh seemed to sink into Sam’s side. 

So, Sam was somehow equal parts utterly shocked and wholly unsurprised when Josh took his hand.

He looked down where Josh had slid their hands together, and rather than feel his heart race and the butterflies overwhelm his system, his stomach just gave one little flip and then settled like a sigh of relief. Like his whole body was a plane landing on the runway after a long flight home.

Something in his head almost whispered _ finally _ , and it took him a full three seconds to determine that he hadn’t actually said it out loud. Sam wasn’t exactly surprised it was happening, but he was surprised by how clearly he could process it. Sometimes when big moments happened, it wasn’t so much that he’d hear white noise or static, it was that he would hear so many trains of thought colliding together at once that it may as well have been nothing. But looking down at Josh’s hand in his, he could sit there with all his thoughts clearly in tact and flowing gently to the sound of the Duke game turned low in the background. 

He turned his glance up at Josh under his glasses, and Josh was hyper-focused on the TV, but a tiny twitch in the corner of his lips made Sam melt at the thought of how nervous Josh must have been. As is if he felt Sam’s gaze on him, Josh shifted his eyes an almost incomprehensible amount in Sam’s direction. Sam felt his face go warm as he smiled at Josh, and when a tiny sneak of a smile touched Josh’s cheeks, Sam cast his eyes back down to their hands.

Josh’s hand was bigger, rougher, and warmer than Sam’s, and there was tiny, soft brown hair on his knuckles. Sam had spent a lot of time looking at Josh’s hands, but the things that matter about somebody’s hands, one doesn’t get to know until one is holding them. Like how the space between Josh’s thumb and forefinger was the perfect size and shape for Sam’s fingers to fit, like Sam’s hand had been carved out of Josh’s. Or like how when Sam subconsciously rolled his thumb over the back of Josh’s, Josh’s fingers instinctually shifted so Sam could intertwine them together, tucking against Josh to rest his head on his shoulder. With their fingers interlaced, Sam let out a contented sigh and readjusted to pull his leg up as he nestled closer into Josh’s shoulder. And that was the first time Sam was aware of Josh exhaling all the way. He felt Josh’s shoulder drop as he let out the low, quiet breath dip and his head to the back of the couch in a kind of whole-body relief that he figured even Josh hadn’t realized he’d been needing.

Sam wasn’t aware he’d fallen asleep until he was waking up with a crick in his neck, his body still pressed against Josh’s. Glancing up at him, he saw that Josh was fast asleep, soft little snores purring from his lips. He started to sit up, and felt his folded knees beneath him springing awake with pins and needles. Their hands were still loosely clasped together and the game was long over, just that McDonald’s commercial where they were singing about egg biscuits. Sam moved to roll his neck and stretch out his legs, reaching for the remote to turn off the television. He caught a glimpse of the blinky red digital clock on Josh’s oven, chuckling that he’d been asleep on Josh for at least three hours when he saw that it was after 1:00 AM. 

Working himself up to slip his hand out of Josh’s was like working himself up to skydive; now that he’d held Josh’s hand the prospect of not holding Josh’s hand was so daunting he had to give himself an internal countdown from three before he stood up and went to go brush his teeth and wash his face. No point in going home now, and he didn’t mind the idea of sleeping on Josh’s couch again. Particularly considering that Josh was on it this time. Using what had become  _ his _ washcloth and  _ his _ toothbrush and  _ his _ hand towel all felt so normal, but this time, they made him grin even more. 

When he came back to the little living area, Josh had slumped on his stomach down into the sofa, seemingly in his sleep, his head propped on one arm rest, his body practically draping over the side, his hand almost grazing the floor. Sam looked at him for a minute in his sweats and thick red and black flannel he’d changed into when they got there. He tugged off his own button up and folded it over the chair with his tie and belt. In just his dress pants and t-shirt, he climbed onto the couch, grabbing the sweatshirt off the floor Josh had abandoned a couple nights ago and never picked up. He tugged it on, he shimmied into the space between the back of the couch and Josh, letting an arm fall across Josh’s lower back and placing his head in the curve between his shoulder blades by which he’d been captivated for months. As the sofa shifted under Sam’s weight, Josh let out happy little hums and sleepy groans along with a half-aware “g’night” once Sam had settled with a leg between Josh’s. Their breathing synched up, and Sam felt his smile expand against Josh’s flannel. The last thing he thought before he was out again was that his face fit so snugly here.

The next morning brought with it new stiffness from sleeping on the sofa wrapped around him. But in the light of day, Josh still gave him that shy little smile as they untangled themselves and got up to get ready. And Sam’s body was still coasting at that comfortable peace it had assumed the moment Josh held his hand. 

They went into work together, and neither of them could stop smiling. Throughout the day, every time Sam found himself in Josh’s office, Josh would give him this dimpled, sheepish smile, and it was like he was re-entering the Earth’s atmosphere. When he went to pick Josh up for lunch, they slammed into each other in the doorway, both so distracted by the thought of the other they hadn’t noticed they were about to collide.  _ A perfect metaphor,  _ Sam thought as they laughed at themselves. 

“Lunch?” Sam finally asked when they managed to stop laughing. 

“Um…” Josh looked down at the stack of paper in his hands, “Come with me to copy these first?”

“Sure!” Sam said trailing behind him toward the copy room filled with huge clunky machines that made dark whirring sounds and smelled like ink, noting “This seems a little beneath your pay grade,” when they arrived.

Sorting the papers into little stacks and starting up one of the copiers, Josh said, “I was waiting for an intern and there were no interns, and then I asked Mia where the interns were, and then I was waiting for her to answer, and there was no Mia. So I guess everybody took lunch and didn’t tell me.” 

“That or they told you, and you weren’t listening,” Sam teased over the buzzing of the machine, leaning on the other side of it.

“What?” Josh called. Sam just chuckled and shook his head to indicate it wasn’t worth repeating. Josh’s gaze was stuck back on him, so Sam gave him another smile, which prompted another smile from Josh before he quickly tore his eyes away and got the pages all set up. Muttering under his breath Josh messed around with the different beeping buttons until he got it working, and copy after copy churned out onto the tray. They waited wordlessly for a bit, Josh looking at the pages every now and then to make sure it was coming along. 

“Josh?” Sam said a little louder and Josh shot his head up to look at him with big eyes, “Do you wanna maybe talk about the…” 

That tiny little streak of panic flashed back and Josh looked around, throwing his head back and forth to make sure no one else was there. 

“We’re alone, Josh, it’s okay,” Sam said, moving around the copier to stand next to him, “So…” 

“So,” Josh practically whispered. 

“You…” Sam dropped his eyes down to their hands which were about a half an inch apart on the side of the copier. Then he looked back up at Josh.

“Yeah,” Josh said with a little swallow. 

“So do you…?” Sam raised his eyebrows, scanning Josh’s face, trying to let his own expressions do the talking because despite his way with words, he just couldn’t quite get there now.  _ Do you want to be with me? Do you want to hold my hand some more? Do you want to kiss me as desperately as I want to kiss you? Do you want to wake up together again? _

“Yeah,” Josh’s face was stone still and marginally alarmed, his eyes huge, his eyebrows high, the creases in his brow forming deep, long stripes “Do you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sam flushed a little, “Yeah, I do. A lot.” 

“Me, too,” Josh let out another one of those long exhales, and Sam just beamed at him.

“Yeah?” Sam tipped his head.

“Yeah,” Josh nodded, his voice dropping to a choked whisper, “I really, really do.” 

Without needing his brain to make the conscious decision, Sam’s fingers closed the space between their hands and he placed his palm on the back of Josh’s hand. A warm sigh escaped Josh that Sam knew had to be about as involuntary as how Sam moved closer to him and gently pressed his forehead to Josh’s. He held himself there for just the smallest of moments, long enough to flutter his eyes shut and take a deep breath of the way Josh smelled before he stepped back and looked at him. Josh’s eyes were closed and he was still tipped forward as if his entire center of gravity had shifted and was now connected to Sam’s. 

Just then, the copier finished its buzzing and Josh opened his eyes, startled by the silence. 

Sam smiled softly at him, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Josh nodded a little. “I gotta… get the… and then… lunch… y’know. With you.” 

Josh’s hands were a little unsteady as he gathered the papers, so Sam helped, and they both let their arms and hands and bodies bump much,  _ much _ more than necessary. Back in the office, Josh set the papers on Mia’s desk and wrote her a sloppy sticky note and slapped it on the top of the pile before going to get his coat.

“What do you want to do for lunch?” Sam asked leaning back against Mia’s desk where he’d left his coat on the back of her chair. 

“Dunno!” Josh replied. 

“We could go get snacks at Hawk’n’Dove?” Sam began rattling, “Or sandwiches at Pat’s like we usually do. We could go back where we went yesterday, but we might have to wait a bit since it’s lunch time, and I didn’t get us a reservation. Or we could try someplace new. What do you think?”

Snatching his coat, Josh called over his shoulder nonchalantly, “It’s your world, Sam Seaborn, I’m just livin’ in it.” 

Sam stood up and blinked as Josh turned around, crossing back to him and working an arm into his coat. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asked. 

“What’s  _ what _ supposed to mean?” Josh stopped about a foot in front of him.

“What you just said about it being  _ my  _ world…?” Sam said. He knew he could be kind of… pushy, but he was trying to get Josh to do stuff he thought would enjoy but wouldn’t do for himself, that Josh would need but neglect. Everything he’d done since he met had been to get closer to Josh. He wasn’t trying to steamroll him. He just wanted to make him happy, but. He could also see how his intensity might come across as one of those guys who expected other people to fall into his plan without consideration. 

“Oh,” Josh stumbled, looking down at his shoes, “I was… I was trying to be… romantic.” He looked back up at Sam and swallowed hard, and Sam felt a grin tugging at his own face, “Sorry was that… was that corny?” 

And Sam was kissing him before he even decided that’s what he was going to do next. It just sprung out of him. He cupped Josh’s face in his hands and crashed their lips together in a bit of a start. Josh made a muffled little sound as he lost his balance into Sam’s chest. After the initial electric jolt of a kiss, Sam let out a breath through his nose and slowed down, his thoughts catching up with his lips, realizing he wanted to savor this. Josh’s body relaxed against his, and Sam felt long eyelashes on his face and hands clutching the front of his shirt. Sam worked his hands into Josh’s curls and the smallest of moans slid from the back of Josh’s throat into Sam’s mouth. The word  _ finally finally finally finally _ rang through his head over and over as he gently parted his lips to move them across Josh’s. 

They stayed like that for what was probably the better part of a minute just softly, carefully, and  _ so _ delicately exploring each other’s lips and tasting each other’s skin. Josh was all coffee and Colgate and the toastiness of his morning bagel and stubble. Sam shifted to tug Josh a little closer, and Josh dropped his hands to Sam’s hips and slowly wrapped his arms there. The kiss just kept rolling on in the darkened office as Sam tried to put words to what he was feeling so he could remember it forever.  _ Bliss. Brilliance. Home. _ But every time his mind danced toward the tip of word that might fit, he was pulled back to the perfect sensations of Josh’s hands on his waist, of Josh’s mouth on his, of Josh’s heartbeat thumping in time with his own.

_ Josh.  _ That’s what he was feeling. He was just feeling Josh. He was finally getting to feel on the outside everything that had been swirling inside him like a hundred thousand burning solar systems. 

_ Josh Josh Josh Josh Josh Josh. _


	14. Chapter 14

**JOSH**

So. This was dating.

Josh had to admit, it didn’t feel a whole lot different from not dating, except there was more kissing involved. Which he enjoyed.

He expected things to be awkward, at least at first as they tried to adjust to their new status quo. He expected…Josh didn’t really know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t the immense comfort he felt just being in Sam’s presence. It was a welcome change from the stress he had been feeling since his Christmas realization. Instead of treading carefully whenever Sam came too close, now Josh allowed himself to lean into the touch. Instead of quickly averting his gaze, he allowed himself to stare, to take in every inch of the man who occupied the majority of his thoughts. Instead of falling asleep alone, cursing his brain and body for ruining the best thing in his life, he fell asleep most nights with his head on Sam’s chest, allowing Sam’s steady breathing and heartbeat to lull him to sleep.

Friendship with Sam had been easy, and this felt almost like the natural progression of their relationship. Easy. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

The body under him shifted then and Josh looked up, where he was met with shining blue eyes and his favorite smile and Josh could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat.

“Hey you,” Sam said softly, brushing a thumb across Josh’s cheek. Josh felt his skin warm under Sam’s touch.

“Hi,” he whispered back, unable to resist a shy smile of his own.

“Sleep well?”

Josh nodded, pressing his lips to the base of Sam’s neck, just above the collar of his t-shirt. Sam gasped and Josh smiled against his skin. “You?” he asked.

“Never a bad night with you,” Sam replied as he did every morning, and Josh giggled. He had learned that Sam always woke up insanely early, whether they had to go into work or not, and he did so with the same superhuman energy he carried for the rest of the day. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so damn endearing. The first night Sam stayed over—really stayed over, in Josh’s bed—Josh had woken up to Sam’s head next to his on the pillow, unblinking blue eyes fixed on him. It had nearly scared the daylights out of him, but Sam had just laughed and covered his face in kisses, so it hadn’t been all that bad.

“Just wait until I start snoring,” Josh teased back, rolling over and stretching the sleep from his joints.

“Babe, you kick,” Sam informed him, propping himself up on an elbow so he could grin down at Josh. “You’ve kicked me at _ least _ twice a night, yet somehow I don’t seem to mind.”

“Whatever,” Josh huffed. “Time s’it?”

“The clock’s on your side, how the hell would I know?” Sam shot back.

“You…” Josh paused and sighed. “Y’know what, nope, not starting.” He rolled over to glance at the clock by his bed, the numbers alerting him that it was just past ten. “You don’t have to go anywhere today, do you?”

“I’m guessing I’ll have to go get food at some point.”

Josh whacked his forehead. “You know what I mean, smartass.”

“Hey, I never have to work on the weekends,” Sam defended. “If anything, I should be asking you that. You get everything done yesterday that you needed to?”

“Yeah,” Josh sighed. He hated working weekends, but unfortunately most Saturdays found him in the office for at least a couple of hours, catching up on paperwork he hadn’t gotten to during the week. Sam was a good sport about it, sometimes going in with him to keep him company (or distract him, depending on his mood) until Josh was confident that he had gotten enough done and could spend the rest of the weekend relaxing. The worst days were when something would come up suddenly mid-day Saturday and Josh would have to go in _ again _ on Sunday. It didn’t happen often, but when it did he always spent the rest of the week grumpy until he could get a real day of rest, so he had ended up working until the early evening yesterday just to make sure that didn’t happen.

Sam had surprised him by preparing dinner at Josh’s apartment—real food, not takeout—and renting Josh’s favorite movie that he would never admit to watching outside of the safety of his home. Josh had rewarded him with kisses. Because he was allowed to do that now.

Ever since he had started kissing Sam, it seemed like he couldn’t stop. It was an impulse. Whenever they were alone (and a few too many times at work), if Sam got within arm’s length Josh would pull him in for a taste. Sam didn’t seem to mind; on the contrary, he seemed to be in a similar situation himself, taking every opportunity possible to brush up against Josh, subtly touch their hands together, a reminder of what they were now.

Sam had stayed over after, of course, and now they got to wake up together in a way that had become routine. Sam didn’t stay over every night, though Josh always wanted him to. Once or twice a week he would go back to his own apartment to take care of some household chores and get some fresh clothes. Josh reasoned that Sam could just wear his clothes whenever he ran out, but Sam usually insisted on at least wearing his own suits and dress shirts to work. Monogrammed dress shirts. Dork.

“Hey,” Sam interrupted his thoughts with a kiss on his forehead. Josh placed a hand on Sam’s cheek to guide him in for a real kiss, and he felt Sam smile against his lips. “_ Anyways _,” Sam tried again once Josh let him pull back, “if you don’t have any objection, I was thinking I could make us pancakes?”

“Other than the objection to you getting up?” Josh grumbled, wrapping an arm more securely around Sam to anchor the other man to his side. Sam huffed out a laugh and poked at Josh’s side to make him loosen his grip enough to roll away.

“We have to get up _ eventually _,” Sam reminded him, swinging his feet onto the floor. Josh leaned up on his elbow to watch Sam as he moved. He watched Sam stretch his arms over his head, arching his back slightly to loosen his muscles. He watched Sam stride to the dresser like it was his own and pull out that maroon-colored Harvard sweatshirt. He watched Sam smirk as he put it on, as if he knew the exact feelings the sight of Sam in his clothes evoked. He watched Sam leave the room, ass deliciously shaped by the boxers—Josh’s boxers—that he had worn to bed.

Josh sighed and got up to follow him, not bothering to dress any further than the sweatpants he slept in. February was a bit chilly to be walking around the apartment without a shirt on, but Josh fully intended to use the other body occupying his space for warmth.

When Sam was on a mission, he worked quickly, and apparently this was one of those times because in the short amount of time it took Josh to use the bathroom and make it out to the kitchen, he already had a pan heating on the stove and was mixing his batter. Sam had assured him on many occasions that he wasn’t _ that _ much of a cook, but compared to Josh, who could barely boil water without setting the place on fire, he might as well be Julia Child. Josh strode up behind him and wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist. Sam jumped in surprise, but continued what he was doing. Josh started pressing small kisses to Sam’s cheek, causing the other man to giggle in amusement.

“You’re very distracting,” Sam informed him, doing his best to move despite Josh clinging to his back.

“’M not the one who wanted to make pancakes. If it was up to me, we'd still be in bed. And I would be less distracting there, because you’d have nothing to be distracted from.”

“Yet I doubt you’ll have any problem _ eating _ the pancakes,” Sam grumbled, and Josh couldn’t argue with that. “Step back, I’m gonna make a tester.”

Reluctantly, Josh did as he was told, though he did keep one hand on Sam’s hip and Sam didn’t comment so Josh assumed he was okay. This angle gave Josh the most lovely view of Sam’s profile. The light from the kitchen window hit his face just perfectly, outlining his inhuman eyelashes and leaving an honest to god gleam in his already-stunning blue eyes. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and the stubble on his jaw was more than noticeable by sight, giving Sam a scruffier look than he would ever allow anyone to see in public. Even standing less than a foot away, Josh longed to reach out at touch, to run his fingers across the planes of Sam’s face, to turn his chin ever so slightly so that their eyes could meet.

Josh was well aware that he was whipped.

Josh was well aware that that wasn’t the only thing he was.

Which is why it didn’t even surprise him when he heard the phrase “_god, I love you _” tumble from his lips. 

Sam dropped the spatula and jerked his head around, wide eyes searching Josh’s face, as though he was worried Josh hadn’t realized what he said, or that he might take it back, but Josh had never been so secure in a feeling in his life. Liking men was new and terrifying, but loving Sam was the most natural thing he had ever done.

“You…” Sam stuttered, blinking a few times. “Really?”

Josh nodded, striving to keep his expression open and honest, to convey the sheer depth of his feelings as best he could through eyesight. He had just enough time for doubt to creep in, worry that maybe it was too soon, that he had managed to scare Sam off, when he felt a hand grab the back of his neck and suddenly they were kissing. This wasn’t the soft “good morning, goodnight, it’s good to see you” kisses they usually shared. This one had an edge of desperation to it, as though even as Sam’s tongue poked into Josh’s mouth they couldn’t get close enough. They were practically drowning in each other, but they wanted—_ needed _—more. It was beyond exhilarating. Josh felt like he was flying.

Almost as soon as he had risen, though, Josh was yanked back down to earth by the smell of smoke and he jolted back. “Sammy, pancakes!”

“What? Oh _ shit _,” Sam broke out of his daze and hurried to remove the pan from the stove. Josh watched in amusement as the other man frantically dumped the charred remains of the test pancake into the sink and ran the pan under water to cool it down. Fire successfully averted, Sam dropped the pan and looked up at Josh sheepishly. “Oops?”

Josh laughed. “I guess I distracted you?”

Sam shook his head, but his smile was fond. He crossed the room again to wrap Josh in a hug, hooking his chin over Josh’s shoulder, close as they could physically be. “Asshole,” he scolded.

“Is that..”

“Of course I love you, too, idiot,” Sam interrupted. “I love you, too. I love you, too.”

“I love you,” Josh repeated, giggling against Sam’s shoulder. “Wow I…I love you.”

Hearing Sam say it back was the hugest weight off his shoulders. In only a few weeks, Josh had fallen in _ deep _ and knowing that he wasn’t alone, that Sam felt this with the same intensity he did, was the most comforting feeling in the world. Second, he supposed, to the physical comfort of being in Sam’s arms.

“We should…make the pancakes now,” Sam suggested eventually. Josh just squeezed him tighter.

“Later,” he mumbled. “Don’t wanna stop hugging you.”

“Baby, either I’m making the pancakes now, or I’m putting the batter in the fridge so it doesn’t go bad. So either way I need you to let go of me for a second.” Josh whimpered but allowed Sam to at least turn around in his arms. Sam grabbed another pan, apparently making the decision for them, and turned the stove back on. Josh tried to be less distracting this time, but there was no way he was letting Sam more than a few inches away, and he only had so much self-control when it came to things like not kissing Sam’s neck.

“Josh, I swear to god,” Sam huffed. “The sooner you let me finish these the sooner we can sit on the couch together and eat them and spend the rest of the day cuddling.” That got Josh’s attention, and he forced himself to step away, but not before ruffling a hand through Sam’s already unkempt bedhead, just because he could.

Free from restraint and distraction, Sam quickly churned out perfectly round, perfectly cooked pancakes until the batter was gone completely. The second Sam flipped the last pancake onto the stack, Josh attached himself to Sam’s side again, giggling at Sam’s whine of protest. 

“I love you,” he said again, just because he could. Sam softened at that. He pulled Josh closer with one arm and grabbed the plate of pancakes with the other. It took a bit of maneuvering and coordination for them to make it to the couch while still tangled together, but miraculously both the two of them and the plate of pancakes arrived intact and Josh pulled Sam down practically on top of him. They took turns feeding each other, Josh shouting at the news between bites until he started throwing pieces of pancake at the television set and Sam changed the channel to something less…stressful. Sundays weren’t usually the best day for TV, especially once the NFL season had ended, so they ended up on some nature documentary that Sam actually seemed genuinely interested in and Josh wanted to keep throwing pancakes at, just to get Sam’s attention again. Except that the pancakes were actually quite good and he didn’t want to waste the food so he decided to get Sam’s attention by kissing him.

It worked just as expected, and Josh felt Sam’s hands cup his face and he brought a hand to Sam’s hair. They had gotten quite a bit of practice at this over the past few weeks, and Josh could confidently say that kissing Sam was his favorite thing to do. 

He hadn’t done a lot of kissing before, and definitely had never kissed like _ this _ before. His few short relationships in college had barely even been that, done after just a few dates, with no chance to go past an awkward peck at the end of the night. With Sam, kissing was a full-body activity. Every inch of them sought contact as their mouths pressed together, and Josh knew it was just a matter of time before they moved onto something _ more _ . Even now, he could tell things were heating up. Josh was lying completely on his back, Sam hovering over him, their chests just barely pressed together, legs tangled at the other end of the couch, but it still felt like _ not enough never enough _. Josh gripped the back of Sam’s neck, pulling him as close as he physically could, like he could absorb Sam’s very essence.

It was at that moment that it hit him what was about to happen, or what could happen, and it was like his brain just shut down. He couldn’t tell who pulled back first, but suddenly, Sam's blue eyes were staring down at him, wide with wonder or concern, Josh couldn’t quite tell. His lips were slightly swollen and if Josh had been in a better mindset he would have been fighting the urge to kiss him again, but as it was he just stared back, panting, and probably looking just as dazed as Sam.

“Are you…okay?” Sam finally asked.

Josh blinked slowly and nodded. “Great! I’m…I’m great. I…like when we do that.”

Sam rewarded that with a smile. “Good. I do too. I just…we don’t have to do anything else yet, you know that, right?”

“Huh?”

“I mean,” Sam shook his head, as if physically trying to clear his thoughts. Josh took pity on him and tugged the other man onto his side, so that Sam was cuddled against him instead of hovering over him. “I know we haven’t really talked about it, but I know you haven’t…done anything before. And I don’t want you to feel rushed.”

“I don’t feel rushed,” Josh protested, though he wasn’t entirely sure if it was the truth.

“I just…I love you,” Sam continued, “and I want our first time to be special. Y’know, a night of romance, _ una noche de romance.” _

“That means…”

“A night of romance,” Sam bantered back.

“Right.”

“I want our first time to be romantic!” Sam went on, “Not impulsive on your couch. Not that I don’t love this! But, for our first time…”

“You’ve been thinking about this?” Josh teased, though he was also a bit curious. Of course he had assumed they would have sex eventually. He wanted to have sex, he had known that since, well, since Sam’s freshly showered torso had turned Josh’s world on its head. He just hadn’t thought of it in absolute terms. It would happen when it happened. Whatever happened. God, what would actually happen?

“A little bit,” Sam responded casually. “I mean…yeah, I guess so. Is that okay?”

“’Course it’s okay, babe,” Josh assured him. “It’s…whatever it is, it’ll be amazing. ‘Cause it’s us. Right?”

Sam smiled. “Of course. Everything with you is amazing, Josh. Every minute we spend together is special. I just…I want to spoil you sometimes. And this…I know it’s dumb, but Valentine’s Day is coming up, and—”

“Sam,” Josh interrupted, grinning in amusement. “Are you trying to plan a special Valentine’s Day for us?”

“I…yes,” Sam admitted, dipping his eyes down to avoid Josh’s gaze, cheeks turning ever so slightly pink.

“That’s so sappy, you know that?”

“I _ know _,” Sam huffed. “Are you going to let me do it or not?”

Now it was Josh’s turn to blush, as the pieces started to fall together in his brain. Valentine’s Day was less than a week away. Sam was planning, had probably been planning a special day for them for quite some time. A special day…to make their first time special.

He knew Sam wouldn’t rush him, but how was Josh, who up until just a short time ago had never made it past first base, supposed to wrap his head around possibly…in the next seven days? That was hardly any time at all in the grand scheme of things! Josh could already feel himself overthinking it. There was no way he was ready. Sam was…Sam hadn’t kept it a secret that he had had a few flings in college. Which Josh obviously had no problem with, except that Sam knew what he was doing while Josh had absolutely no clue. Sam had had so much time to prepare and now Josh had a week to figure out exactly how to…do it.

“Josh?” Sam interrupted his thoughts. “You can say no. I’m not going to pressure you with anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

Sam was giving him an out. Sam knew Josh had put the pieces together and he was giving Josh a chance to stop it right now. He could beg off, say it might be a busy day for him and they should reschedule for another day. He could suggest they just have a night watching sports and eating pizza in their sweats. He could agree now and fake an illness later that Sam would see right through but never mention again. He didn’t have to say yes. Sam was right, there was no pressure at all. Sam was safe.

“No I…I want that. If you want…I trust you,” Josh responded honestly, and he had never meant anything more in his life. Sam’s answering grin told him all he needed to know and something loosened a bit in his chest. He could figure this out. He could make this work. Either that, or he had about five days to come up with an excuse to call it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are heating uppppp *eyes emoji* as always, let us know how you're liking this!


	15. Chapter 15

**SAM**

Sam couldn’t help but let out a sigh as he made it up the narrow staircase of his place. He loved Josh’s place. He loved that it had become a second home. He loved that he had a key and had spare clothes and a toothbrush there. He loved that he had reorganized the fridge and cabinets to be able to make food for them whenever he wanted. Josh’s place was comfortable and cozy.

But the things that made Josh’s place cozy were…well, only Josh, really. It was a big ugly brick complex in Brookland that could have been mistaken for a prison. The inside felt more like a mix of a college dorm and a bachelor pad. Partially because it was just a very industrial, cookie-cutter space with little character and partially because Josh’s lifestyle was still somewhere between a high-functioning teenager and a very low-functioning adult. Before Sam had forced himself into Josh’s life, Josh had had a fork, a spoon, a plate, a mug, and a bowl—none of which he’d bother to clean often, so he’d live off paper plates and plastic silverware. Sam didn’t mind. And it’s not like Sam was the kind of person who had a fully stocked kitchen at all times, but Sam was the kind of person who had a favorite spatula and Josh was the kind of person who had never even bothered to buy a spatula. So Sam had had to buy him one after an omelette catastrophe best left forgotten. 

Their slight age difference wasn’t usually that noticeable. But, there were ways Josh had his life much more together. Josh was much more financially independent while Sam still used his parents as a safety net and was still figuring out what exactly taxes were and how to file them. Josh had been out of school longer and was more accustomed to a 9-5 (though for Josh it was usually much longer) work day. Yet, there were times when Sam figured that if someone had to guess which one was the 21-year-old and which one was the 26-year-old, they’d look at both their places and get it wrong. 

So even though Sam loved every minute in Josh’s place—because it was Josh’s, and he was starting to impose some of his own order, and everything smelled like Josh, and he was amazed at how quickly it felt natural to wake up in Josh’s bed—he was always a little bit relieved to be back in his Woodley Park townhouse. Well, his _ floor _ of a Woodley Park townhouse that had been converted into several apartments. Sam’s place was an entirely different kind of cozy than Josh’s. Sam’s was cozy on its own whereas Josh’s presence made an otherwise bland and space feel like coming home. Sam’s had crown molding, pretty but slanted hardwood floors, low ceilings, big windows with thick panes that visibly withstood decades of Washington summers, and warm, low lights that splashed a glow across the yellowy white walls and countertops and furniture. 

Leaving Josh’s always made Sam’s whole body go from feeling like he was just completely and totally at peace, like walking on little clouds, to feeling like he had to drag himself back down to Earth. Like when they’d left the warm, still air of the Botanical Gardens and been slapped in the face with the cold winter wind outside. But when he spent a night at home, he certainly felt a different kind of relaxed that came with being in control of his environment. Despite the fact that he was slowly filling Josh’s place with his stuff, he liked being back in his own space sometimes, too.

The only part he didn’t like about being back at his place was that there was no evidence of Josh. Evidence of him was all over Josh’s apartment from how much time he’d been spending there nearly every day for the past five months. Sam realized that Josh had hardly even set foot in his place. The few times they’d swung by to pick something up together, Josh had just hung back in the doorway. Sam had offered for him to come in and get comfortable, have something to drink, make himself at home, but Josh would shrug it off and stay in the threshold picking at the door frame and shifting his hands in his pockets. 

That would change tomorrow, though. They’d planned for Josh to come over after work on Valentines Day. That would give Sam a couple hours to get their dinner ready and set everything up how he wanted it. He wanted it to be perfect for Josh. He wanted Josh to feel completely and utterly swept off his feet. He wanted Josh to feel how he had felt the first time he saw him. The first time he held his hand. The first time they kissed. The first time Josh had said I love you, just a few days ago. That’s how Sam wanted Josh to feel always feel. But tomorrow night, especially.

It had come up off hand and early in their friendship over take out and a football game that Josh had never really dated before. It hadn’t come up until they started dating last month that Josh had never been with anyone physically before either. The first night Sam had stayed over for real, he hand seen a spark of panic in Josh’s eyes when he’d started to let his hands travel up Josh’s thigh as they sat together on the couch in pajamas. Sam had raised an eyebrow and Josh had swallowed a little before Sam asked, “You okay?” Josh had nodded swiftly, but Sam just looked at him a little harder before Josh finally said, “Just… never… um…” with a pointed look. Sam had smiled and lifted his hand from the soft flannel and cupped Josh’s face. They’d spent the rest of the night switching between cuddling and slow kisses, before they fell asleep in Josh’s bed, spooning and giggling. 

And Sam loved that. He had pretty much been daydreaming about kissing Josh since the first time he saw him. But he had been daydreaming about other things, too. 

Admittedly, that was probably the main reason Sam needed to get home from time to time: just to take care of things Josh was stirring up but wasn’t ready to take care of himself. There was only so much he could do when Josh was next to him. And there were only so many times he could excuse himself to go splash cold water on his face after their kisses and cuddles got a little less… cuddly. Particularly now that Josh had made a habit of walking around without his shirt on. Once, Sam had found himself staring at Josh’s hip bones from across the kitchen on a rare occasion that Josh allowed more than an inch or two of space between them. He’d let his eyes trace down to the shape of him that he could just make out in his low-riding sweatpants and felt his own pants get tighter. Josh had been talking about an upcoming summit for members of some foreign aide subcommittee, and all Sam had been able to focus on was the thought of running his tongue across the line of creamy pale skin that formed a perfect V dipping beneath the elastic. 

He fell asleep thinking about it. He woke up early thinking about it. He woke up early so he could straighten up, scrub the bathroom, put clean sheets on the bed, and all the other little things he needed to do to make everything right around the place. At work, he took the long way to Congresswoman Levy’s office so he could poke his head in to bring Josh his coffee. Just on first glance, he could tell that the coffee was needed. 

“Hey, baby,” Sam said softly when he was close enough that only Josh could hear. 

Completely startled, Josh jumped in his seat, knocking over a stack of papers with his elbow, “Sam!”

“Brought you coffee!” Sam smiled. 

“Yeah,” Josh muttered, “Thanks.” 

“How are you doing?” Sam asked, perching on the edge of his desk.

“I’m good!” Josh said, turning to look up at Sam. Sam raised an eyebrow suggestively, and Josh’s eyes went wide, and he repeated, “I’m… good.” 

Sam reached out to touch his face but pulled back when Josh drew a sharp, fast inhale, bracing his shoulders. So instead he settled for a quick shoulder tap, saying under his breath teasingly, “Got any Valentines plans?” Josh blinked a little and then just nodded quickly, so Sam said, “Me, too.” 

Josh didn’t move his big brown eyes but he just nodded. Sam reached to take his hand under the desk and whispered, “You feeling okay about it?” Another quick nod and Sam nudged him, silently asking _ Are you sure? _ Josh looked away but nodded once more. Sam held back the urge to kiss his head and tell him it was okay. That he didn’t have to be nervous. That he was gonna take care of him. Instead, he just squeezed his hand and said, “I’ll see you at lunch,” with the most encouraging smile he could muster before making his way out. 

All day, Sam squirmed with excitement and anticipation. He left as early as he could so he could pick up the rest of what he needed to make the evening perfect. He wanted it to be the cheesiest, sappiest, most overly romantic night anyone had ever dreamed of. He bought dozens and dozens of red roses, and candles, a bottle of cabernet sauvignon, a bottle of blanc de blancs champagne, a plate of chocolate and strawberry tarts, and stuff to make Josh’s new favorite dinner: Margherita pizza. When the pizza dough was in the fridge, Sam put the roses in vases all over, breaking off petals of one to scatter across the bed. He arranged candles around the house, lighting them, and then blowing them out when he realized it would still be a few hours before Josh got there, relighting them and blowing them out again. He pulled out his little record player and a vinyl of classical guitar that he’d snagged from the “get rid of pile” during his parents’ big move when he was in high school. He stood in front of the mirror, talking himself out of every outfit he tried on before before finally landing on a pair of dark black jeans and an off-white sweater that was actually more of a light blush pink. He’d bought it because it was soft and he liked the cabling, but he never had a chance to wear it. It was a little snug around his upper arms, but hung just right around his torso. He liked the way he looked in it. And Josh had never seen him in it before. 

Then he waited for Josh to get there, fidgeting and reorganizing things over and over again just to give himself something to do. When Josh finally called to tell him he was on his way, he stuck the pizza in the oven and set the table, lighting two tall candles, lighting all the other candles around the place, and felt his heart start getting even more fluttery as he turned the record player on and was practically standing and waiting by the door. 

The knock came a little later than Sam was expecting. But when it opened, his heart melted to see Josh, still in his clothes from work, hair messy, eyes wide, clutching a bouquet of daffodils. 

“Hey!” Sam smiled, his cheeks turning warm. 

“Hey,” Josh looked at his shoes, at the flowers, and back to Sam, “You said you liked daffodils the other day, so… I gotchu some. I had to ask what daffodils were. So… I hope they didn’t bamboozle me.” 

“They’re beautiful,” Sam grinned that Josh had remembered such a passing comment he’d made weeks ago and also at the thought of him asking a clerk at a flower shop that was probably trying to close what daffodils were, “And they are in fact daffodils.” 

“Good,” Josh said, looking back down at them, “I thought so, but you can never be sure with these things.”

Sam bit his lip to hold back a chuckle, “Come on in!” He took the daffodils and looked around for something to put them in, “Pizza’s almost ready.” 

“You did all this…” Josh asked, stepping slowly through the doorway and looking around, “For me?”

“Oh no, this was for the other guy I’m seeing. He just left, so I haven’t had time to take it all down.” Sam teased. Josh snorted but didn’t come much further in, “Josh, I’m kidding."

“I know,” Josh’s hands were stuffed in the pockets of his coat, “I just… you didn’t have to do all this.” 

“It’s not much,” Sam shrugged, “Plus, I _ wanted _ to.” 

The little egg timer dinged, and Sam served the pizza and poured them each a glass of red. They sat at his round kitchen table, the guitar music filling an otherwise pretty quiet evening. They didn’t talk very much tonight. They did a lot of looking into each other’s eyes and then bursting into giggles, neither sure what to say. 

When they finished every last bite of pizza and every last sip of wine and every last nibble of the tarts, Sam gathered their plates and silverware and glasses, taking them to his little sink to wash them off and let them soak. With rolled up sleeves, he started humming along to the music in the background as he scrubbed. He didn’t really process that he’d been humming or that Josh had come into the kitchen and was standing a few feet away from him watching him until he looked up to see the widest eyes. 

“Oh, hey!” Sam said, tilting his head. “You alright?”

“I just… I can’t…” Josh said softly, “Now that I get to look at you… I can’t stop looking at you.” 

Sam blushed and turned back to finish the last dish. When he placed it on the drying rack and turned off the faucet, before he could look back up, Josh had reached to lightly place a hand on his forearm. Sam let his eyes flicker shut for just a second as he took a deep inhale and then turned to meet his gaze. Hands still sudsy, he leaned in and kissed Josh so long and so deep he could taste all the flavors of the evening on his mouth and maybe even his morning coffee. Josh let out the tiniest moan, and Sam responded grabbing his tie to tug him closer. Then he realized he’d gotten dish soap all over the dark red silk and pulled apart crying, “Shit, I’m sorry!” and going to dry his hands. 

He spun back around and Josh was still staring, lips swollen, eyes still wide. He softened his own expression when Josh swallowed hard and took a faltering breath.

“Josh?” Sam said in a hoarse whisper, “Are you…?”

“I’m ready,” he nodded swiftly before they surged together, meeting in the middle of Sam’s little kitchen. Tugging Josh as close to him as possible, Sam guided him through little touches, and they stumbled towards the bedroom, kissing frantically with hands in each other’s hair and all over each other’s backs, leaving trails of evidence as they pulled each other’s clothes off. Crashing through the bedroom door, they practically tripped over themselves as they scrambled to the bed. Josh fell backwards onto the mattress and Sam collapsed against him with a comical “oof” at which they both had to stop and laugh. In the lull, Josh looked around and went a little pale as his gaze registered first the roses, then the champagne glasses, then the candles, then the fact that they were both only in their boxers now, and then the bottle of lube on the nightstand. 

“You okay?” Sam asked, running his knuckles across Josh’s cheek. 

With a shallow inhale, Josh replied, “Yeah, yeah, I just… y’know. It’s really happening.” 

Sam nodded but said, “It doesn’t have to happen, sweetheart. If you want to just…”

“No, I want it,” Josh whispered, “I want it so bad.”

“We can slow down if you need to.” Sam suggested, kissing a small peck on his forehead.

“I don’t...” Josh cast his eyes away from Sam, “I don’t know _ what _ I need. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I think you need a glass of champagne,” Sam informed him, hopping to his feet. 

Josh sat up and said, “Yeah, yeah, maybe that’ll help.” 

“We can just drink a bit of it to calm the nerves,” Sam called over his shoulder as he dashed to the kitchen, “It’ll be romantic!” He took a few deep breaths to try and force himself to be able to slow down, but Josh on his back in his bed looking up at him beneath dark black lashes was a little too much. He was pretty much done for. 

When he got back, Josh had adjusted to sit against the headboard, Sam’s comforter around his hips, his boxers on the floor. Now Sam was definitely done for. He swallowed, Josh watching silently, as he moved around towards the little champagne glasses on the nightstand. He messed with the stopper, and realized how sweaty and shaky his hands were when it simply wasn’t opening.

“You want me to try?” Josh offered from the bed. 

Sam just shook his head, “I got it.” He changed angles, and still no give. Josh reached out to get Sam to give it to him, but Sam shook his head, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and applying more force to the bottle. With no warning, the stopper burst across the room, and a waterfall of fizz spilled onto the rug. Sam watched it all happen too quickly for him to correct it, but just slowly enough for him to take in the fact that he had dumped nearly the entire bottle on the floor right in front of Josh while he was trying to be smooth. And Josh was laughing so hard he was crying.

Blinking at the bubbles dripped down his wrist, Sam sighed and said, “Whelp, I don’t think we’re gonna have champagne.” 

Josh’s laughter quieted, and Sam looked back over at him, a restful and warm smile on his face as he said quietly, looking Sam right in the eyes, “I don’t think I need it.” 

So Sam set the almost empty bottle down, wiped off his arm on his boxers before stepping out of them and crawling onto the bed over Josh. Josh tipped his head back and parted his lips even before Sam had started kissing him. And when he did start kissing him, he couldn’t stop. 

So he didn’t. He kissed Josh’s lips and down his neck and a spot on his collarbone that made him gasp. As he pulled open the covers and slipped underneath them, rose petals dropped to the ground over puddles of champagne and little piles of their clothes. Josh just watched with the smallest almost _ peaceful _ smile on his face that was reflected in his eyes. Even as Sam took the bottle off the nightstand and began to kiss Josh lower down his chest, his hips, and his inner thighs, Josh’s face never changed. His stare was intense, but steady, and his body was relaxed against Sam’s touch as he feathered the tips of his fingers between his legs. 

When Sam finally entered him, they both let out a sigh of relief in unison. And it was like it was Sam’s first time, too.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to go up yesterday but yknow. life.

**JOSH**

Josh giggled gleefully to himself as he looked up at the ceiling.

He could see Sam watching him out of the corner of his eye, propped against his pillow—much more comfortable than any pillow Josh owned—and smiling fondly, like he wanted to reach out and touch but didn’t want to disrupt Josh’s thoughts. Josh’s thoughts weren’t particularly coherent at the moment.

“We just had sex,” Josh breathed, tone giving away his awe. He had known it was coming, and he had expected it to be good, but there was nothing that could’ve prepared him for just how amazing it would feel to have Sam inside him. It had been the most delightful sensation of fullness and completeness. Josh thought that that was what had been missing in his life, that he hadn’t been truly himself until he had been physically joined with Sam. It was exhilarating. It was a breath of fresh air. It had felt like he was flying. Josh wanted to do it over and over again.

Sam chuckled softly and reached a hand over to stroke up and down Josh’s chest. “We did, love,” he agreed.

“We had sex,” Josh repeated. “I had sex with you. Gay sex. Oh my god. We just had gay sex.” He giggled again, turning his head to grin up at Sam, who was gazing down at him with amusement. “Sammy…I’m  _ gay _ !”

“Yeah, I think you are, baby,” Sam replied, sliding down a bit to kiss Josh’s forehead. Josh hummed happily and cuddled closer to Sam again.

“That was…wow,” Josh stuttered. “Does it always feel like that?”

“That was the best I’ve ever had, Josh. No contest.” Sam replied easily, but his voice was laced with so much emotion that Josh found himself wondering what it had been like for Sam before.

He knew Sam had been with a few guys in college, but he had never really asked for specifics. It wasn’t that he was jealous or anything, on the contrary, he was a little bit relieved that at least one of them knew what they were doing. But there really wasn’t a good way to ask the person you had just begun dating to describe their previous sexual encounters. At least, not one that Josh knew of. 

Sam had just made his first time unbelievable. Indescribable. And it was because it was Sam. His heart clenched at the thought that Sam hadn’t had that for his own first time.

“Baby?” Sam ran a hand through Josh’s messy hair to get his attention. “You there?”

“Yeah, I just…”

“You okay?” Now Sam looked a little concerned, and Josh softened his expression into a smile.

“So good babe. Amazing, actually. I just…was that actually good for you too? Because I know I didn’t really know what I was doing, but—”

“Josh,” Sam interrupted, covering Josh’s mouth with his hand to make him stop talking. “It was incredible. You were…Josh, you’re so good, you really are. The best. Because I love you, and you love me, and I think that automatically makes it amazing. So yeah,” he removed his hand from Josh’s mouth and used it to lightly poke his nose. “It was better than good for me too.”

“Okay. Good,” Josh smiled shyly, snuggling a little closer into Sam’s side. He wasn’t feeling too sore yet, though Sam had warned him that it would probably happen, but now that the post-orgasm high had faded a bit Josh was growing sleepier by the second. He felt Sam’s chest vibrate under him in a silent chuckle, as arms wrapped themselves more firmly around Josh’s frame.

“Yeah,” Sam whispered, nose pressed to Josh’s temple. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. Got nothing but time here.”

Josh was out before Sam had even finished his sentence.

\--

Waking up in Sam’s arms was a sensation Josh was quickly getting used to, but there was something completely new about waking up naked, knowing that it was officially  _ the morning after _ , that the last time they had been awake, they had had sex. He could feel every inch of Sam’s toned body against his, smooth skin that he had barely begun to explore.

Like always, Sam had woken up first, and Josh was greeted with big blue eyes only inches away from his own, gazing down at him with a mixture of fondness and awe, like he had expected Josh to have disappeared overnight. Josh couldn’t blame him, the same thought had crossed his own mind in the moments between sleep and wakefulness. How could something as incredible as last night—as Sam in general, really—be anything other than a delightful, impossible dream?

“Hey,” Josh whispered, unwilling to shatter their morning stillness with unnecessary volume.

“Morning sweetheart,” Sam responded just as softly, voice a bit rough from sleep. He tilted his head down to peck a kiss on the tip of Josh’s nose, and Josh let out a contented sigh. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm,” Josh agreed stretching his body experimentally. He could definitely feel the burn in his lower back, and he had a feeling he’d be walking funny today, but a small price to pay for the wonder that had been his first time.

“Sore?” Sam asked, as if reading his mind.

“A bit,” Josh shrugged. He let a shy grin spread across his face. “Kinda like it. Reminds me of last night. Which was…y’know…really amazing.”

Sam let out a shaky breath and buried his nose in Josh’s hair. “So amazing,” he repeated. “God Josh I…I didn’t know it could feel like  _ that _ .”

Josh furrowed his brow. “What…what do you mean?” he asked, nuzzling the bit of Sam’s skin he could reach. Sam shivered at the contact, and Josh tugged the covers up around them more snuggly.

“It was like…” he took a deep breath. “I’ve had sex before, but it was always… _ just _ sex. Just…getting off. And then it was over. It was never…God baby no one ever made me feel that good. No one ever wanted to make me feel that good.”

Josh could hardly believe that. “But…why not? Isn’t that…isn’t the whole point to make each other feel good? I mean,” he tilted his head up, bumping his nose against Sam’s chin as he tried to make eye contact. “All I wanted to do was make you feel good. Is that…did I…?”

“Oh, Josh,” Sam practically sobbed, pressing their foreheads together. “You made me feel incredible. So, so good, baby. And even now…even holding you…” He trailed off and Josh quickly started pressing kisses to his face, catching a tear as it made its way down Sam’s cheek. Last night had been the most powerful, intense pleasure Josh had felt in his life, and he knew Sam was the reason. The thought of his first time being with anyone else made his skin crawl. And the thought of Sam’s first time being anything less than perfect…

“It was never  _ bad _ ,” Sam continued quickly, as if he wanted to defend the guys who clearly hadn’t deserved him. “It just…took me awhile to realize what I was looking for. I didn’t just want sex, I wanted…this.” He gestured between the two of them, wrapping an arm more firmly around Josh’s waist. “The intimacy of doing it with someone you love. You can’t get that with strangers you meet at a college party or something. I needed…I needed  _ you _ , baby.”

“I needed you, too,” Josh whispered in reply, because he didn’t know what else to say. He remembered the anxiety he had felt just a few short weeks ago as he had begun coming to terms with his sexuality. Where would he have been without Sam by his side? What would he have done without that unconditional support and love? Even now, as Josh learned what it meant to be in love with a man, he found himself leaning heavily on Sam’s steady presence.

He pictured Sam as a teenager coming to the same realization. He pictured Sam in college, trying to reach out for someone, anyone, who would care for him the way he needed, who would  _ understand _ what it was that he needed, and coming up empty. His chest ached with the knowledge that Sam had spent those most challenging of years more or less alone, and he longed to go back in time and find Sam at one of those Princeton bars and take him somewhere safe. To assure him how valuable he was, how deserving he was of someone who’s capacity to love matched his own.

Sometimes Josh still found it hard to believe that he could be that person. Sam was just so  _ good _ . Bright. Sam was sunshine personified, and he lit up Josh’s entire world. Sam gave him so much, and all Josh had to give in return was his entire heart, in hopes that that was enough.

“Hey,” Sam lightly poked Josh’s nose, startling him out of his thoughts. Josh blinked in confusion and Sam giggled at him before doing it again.

“ _ Heeeyyy _ ,” Josh whined, but he poked Sam’s nose in retaliation, causing Sam to giggle harder as he scrunched his nose adorably.

“Boop!” Sam giggled, tapping Josh’s nose once more, and this time Josh couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Boop?” he questioned amusedly, and Sam nodded.

“Boop,” he confirmed with a giggle, repeating the gesture. Josh had no response but to do it back and soon they were a mess of poking and giggles and Josh felt happier than he had ever been in his life. This adorable goof was  _ his _ .  _ He  _ was the one who got to see Sam like this, all soft and happy and silly. It was such a treat, and the greatest privilege Josh had ever had.

“ _ Anyways _ ,” Sam continued once they had calmed down a bit, chests rising and falling from the exertion. “I guess the one good thing about my first few times being…not that great is that my first  _ real _ time got to be with you. Like, the first one I want to remember. I want to remember this forever.”

“I never want to do this with anyone else,” Josh found himself admitting before he had even realize that the thought had crossed his mind. “I mean…it’s you, Sammy. It was special because…I love you.”

“I never want to do this with anyone else either,” Sam agreed. “God Josh, now that we’ve done  _ that _ …how am I ever supposed to keep my hands off you?”

“Try and restrain yourself,” Josh deadpanned, but couldn’t keep his expression serious for long.

“Hmmmm don’t think I will,” Sam countered, hands springing to motion as he started tickling Josh’s sides. Josh tensed as he tried to keep himself from laughing but it was no use, as Sam managed to locate every sensitive spot on his naked body.

“ _ Sammy _ ,” he giggled, blindly pawing his hands in the general direction of the other man’s face.

“Yes?” Sam asked innocently, slowing down just a touch.

“You’re mean,” Josh huffed, finally managing to wrap a hand around Sam’s wrist to still one of his hands completely. He rolled over to trap the other in between his body and the bed, and smiled smugly at Sam’s pout. Which Josh promptly kissed off his face.

“Mmm…if that’s what I get for being mean, I wonder what I get for being nice,” Sam commented when they pulled apart.

“Like you’ll ever know,” Josh taunted back. Just then, the corner of his vision caught a dark splotch on Sam’s collarbone where Josh’s head had previously been resting. He poked it experimentally, flicking his eyes up to catch Sam’s reaction. Sam was just watching him, face no longer joking, as if bracing himself for Josh’s next move.

Josh dipped his head down to kiss at the mark, lightly at first, then with a gentle tug of his teeth and he felt Sam’s breath hitch. Encouraged, he kept going, trying to remember what he had done to create the mark in the first place—his body had been operating on autopilot from the moment they got undressed, if he was completely honest—wondering if it was possible to leave another mark over it. Sam shifted under him, and the hand that had been resting on Josh’s hip moved.

Josh lifted his head to see what Sam was doing. Sam was still gazing at him intently, but there was a tightness to his expression, like he wanted to say something but was holding himself back. At the same time, Josh noticed Sam absently pressing his thumb—the one he had removed from Josh’s waist—into his own collarbone, directly opposite where Josh had been focusing his attention. Josh glanced between Sam’s face and his hand for a moment before something clicked in his brain and he nudged Sam’s hand out of the way replacing it with his mouth.

“ _ Josh _ ,” Sam gasped as Josh sucked an identical hickey on the new spot. Josh looked up at him and softened when he saw Sam’s eyes fill with tears again.

“Is that…is that what you needed, sweetheart?” Josh asked, gently stroking a thumb down Sam’s cheek as the other man nodded.

“How do you always…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “God, I’m sorry I keep getting so emotional, I just…I can’t believe you’re real sometimes. I can’t believe you’re real.”

“I wanna give you what you need,” Josh reminded him. “You’re so good to me, I wanna be that good for you too.”

“You are, I swear to god you are, Josh,” Sam promised. “I…Josh,  _ I _ didn’t even know I wanted that. I never even thought…how did you know? How do you  _ always know _ ?”

“Because I love you,” Josh responded simply. “Because I’d do anything to make you happy. It’s all I wanna do, Sam, it’s all I ever wanna do.”

“I’m so lucky to have you,” Sam breathed, and Josh surged down to capture his lips again. Kissing Sam was an experience in and of itself. Sex was great—sex was  _ really _ great—but kissing felt like home. Like Josh could just bury himself here and never leave. Never stop. He would be perfectly happy to never stop.

They broke apart with a giggle as Sam poked his nose again in an effort to lighten the mood.

“Seriously, what  _ is _ that,” Josh laughed, and Sam shrugged.

“Dunno. You seem to like it though, so I’m not inclined to stop.”

“I never asked you to,” Josh replied, and they just smiled at each other for a minute.  _ God _ Josh was so in love with him.

“We should probably get up,” Sam acknowledged eventually, and Josh’s stomach growled in agreement. They sat up, and Josh grimaced as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was definitely feeling it a lot more now that he tried to move. Sam’s face lit up at Josh’s struggle, as though rendering him unable to walk was among his greatest achievements. To be fair, Josh imagined if their positions were reversed, he would probably feel similarly smug.

It felt like any other morning, except that they were at Sam’s and had done more than sleep the night before. Josh had to stop and process that every few minutes. 

“We had  _ sex _ ,” he repeated once they were sitting on the couch with their toast and fruit, and Sam just laughed at him again.

“Yeah baby, we had sex,” he confirmed. For as monumentally huge as it seemed, it also felt like just the next natural step in the progression of their relationship. Because as much as it had changed everything, absolutely nothing had changed. Sam was still Sam, and Josh was still in completely love, and he had never felt so at home in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> much to think about much to process they did some soft they did some emotion yknow? its late, im tired, ignore me, as always let us know what you thought! we love getting reviews on these things!


	17. Chapter 17

**SAM**

On the third morning waking up in his bed after a night of not much sleep and a  _ whole lot  _ of other stuff, Sam was still overwhelmed with how emotional he felt waking up beside Josh. Tears pricked his eyes when he looked over to see morning light splashed across Josh’s stubbled, sleeping face. Even in slumber, Josh’s face radiated something he knew he’d been aching for but hadn’t realized how desperately he’d been aching for it until it was looking back up at him. 

He’d had sex, sloppy and quick, two people chasing their own orgasm in each other’s bodies. Sam had always tried to be courteous, to ask what he liked, to squeeze off his own climax until his partner had come, to try for at least a little foreplay. But he was always met with monosyllabic answers or “just suck it” hissed in amused frustration. After, he’d yearn to be held, but feel relieved when the guy would leave so he could go back to his reading. 

But this was so different it was hardly a comparable activity. When Josh was beneath him, his brain bubbled in too much chaotic, blissful tranquility for him to process, but it would later occur to him that since he was eighteen, he’d been trying to make love to people who just wanted to have sex. And now, all that love and intimacy and trust and knowing and longing and hunger and peace was beaming back up at him every time. So he made love to Josh almost in slow motion, holding each thrust for them to relish in a quiet delight, whispering “I love you,” and tangling kisses in each other’s hair. Three beautiful nights in a row (and once on Saturday afternoon).

Sam managed to pry himself out of bed to slowly start his morning routine. Tugging on his glasses, Josh’s Harvard t-shirt that hung loose around his collarbones and his flannel pajama bottoms off the floor, he went to brush his teeth, and catching his own reflection, he couldn’t help but chuckle. His skin was covered with three days’ worth of hickeys of varying sizes, stages, and hues. And each one had a corresponding bruise on the opposite side of his torso (and thighs and ass and arms). Ever since Josh had intuited that Sam would be happier with symmetrical hickeys, he hadn’t left a single mark on Sam’s body without giving it a twin. It made Sam giggle with a kind of lightheaded glee that left him feeling almost a bit drunk. The fact that Josh knew him well enough to have noticed Sam’s discomfort, to realize it was because of the uneven distribution of the marks even before Sam knew that’s what was bothering him, and to not be perturbed by Sam’s obsessive need for structure, but rather, to incorporate it into how he showed affection. It made Sam feel incredibly  _ seen _ . Just seen and understood and loved. Adored. Plenty of guys had looked at his body, but Josh was the first to look and not just see body parts. Josh was the first to see the whole picture, how all his body language and facial expressions were communicating little messages Sam hadn’t even fully formed yet. Something a professor told him rang in his head about seeing all the pieces as a part of a whole. 

Sam had scads of surface level friendships. He was a friendly guy who was eager to please, so it was never difficult to get people to like him initially, but he wasn’t great at maintaining deeper connections. Usually relationships of any kind fizzled out once people had been around him long enough to start picking up on his neurosis or to have been subjected to several of his political rants. Josh had been enduring all of that for months now, and it hadn’t driven him away, it had pulled him closer. Being seen as well as Josh could see him made him feel vulnerable and exposed. But remarkably, with Josh, it didn’t make him feel uncomfortable. It just made him feel like he was home. And now that home could never feel like home again, finding his home in a pair of big brown eyes and sparkling dimples couldn’t have come at a better time.

So right now what was happening was that he was in the bathroom, subconsciously crying his way through his morning routine, when Josh appeared behind him, his hair a complete mess, his eyes barely open, having donned Sam’s boxers and nothing else.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he yawned, tucking his chin on Sam’s shoulder and wrapping his arms sleepily around his waist.

Sam’s stomach did a flip at the term of endearment, and managed a smile and shook his head, “I’m sorry, Josh, I just…”

“You been doing an awful lot of crying the past couple days,” Josh whispered, practically nibbling on his ear. 

“Happy tears, I assure you,” he replied, steadying himself into Josh’s embrace. 

“Not because I’ve stolen your virtue?” Josh joked in a low teasing voice, nuzzling into his neck. Sam laughed, and Josh went on, “Made an honest woman out of you?” Sam lost it at that, tipping his head back in laughter against Josh’s shoulder so their cheeks pressed together. Josh kissed away his remaining tears, and Sam felt himself sigh contentedly as he folded his own hands over Josh’s on his stomach.

“Just that no one’s ever stayed this long,” Sam heard himself say before he really decided that’s what he was going to say next. That kept happening. With Josh, the words just flowed out easily, without any self-editing in his head, “Never wanted anybody to stay this long.” 

“You trying to tell me to get out of your house?” Josh chuckled, kissing over a faded bruise on the curve of his neck. 

“No,” Sam murmured, “I’m trying to tell you to never leave.” 

Josh beamed at his reflection and said softly, half-joking, half-serious, “Be careful what you wish for, Seaborn.”

With a gentle push against the sink, Sam turned around and captured Josh’s lips in his, fingers flying to Josh’s hair, pulling him flush against his chest. Josh hummed into the surprise of it, but returned his hands to Sam’s waist, pressing hard against him until Sam felt the countertop slice into his back, and in the front of his pajamas, he began to feel himself getting warm. Barely moving his eyes from Sam’s, Josh started kissing each piece of exposed flesh he could find, starting with Sam’s neck, then his arms, then a line of his hips that peeked out between the t-shirt and pajama bottoms. Before he knew it, Josh was on his knees on the blue and white tiles, tugging at Sam’s drawstrings. 

“Josh,” Sam breathed a little, “You don’t have to…”

“I  _ want _ to,” Josh smiled, running his hand along the plaid flannel. 

Sam gasped when Josh sunk his lips onto him, “ _ Josh!”  _ Josh didn’t have a lot of technique or any tricks up his sleeve, but in the past three days, he was already getting the hang of it and seemed to genuinely enjoy the process of learning what made Sam tick. He watched, rapt, and responded to Sam’s movements and sounds and tugs at his curls, waiting eagerly for Sam’s breathless instructions and whined pleas. And with just a weekend between now and the first time, Josh was already beginning to preempt Sam’s requests. Sam couldn’t even imagine what it would be like months from now, or years, though he tried not to let himself think that far ahead, once they had a thousand nights behind them. It was like something Sam had never known, to be in synch with someone, no that wasn’t how to explain it. It was a conversation without words, and they were already starting to build their own language. By the time Josh was wiping his mouth and giggling up at Sam with glowing eyes, Sam’s knees were literally shaking, and he couldn’t stand up without the support of the counter behind him.

“Was that better?” Josh smacked his lips.

Panting for air, Sam replied, “Oh my  _ God,  _ Josh” and yanked him up for a long, toothy kiss, “You take my breath away.” 

Never in his life had he ever thought sex could be comforting. All the emotions he’d been feeling melted away to just the  _ euphoria _ of being with Josh. 

“So what’s for breakfast?” Josh asked, leaving a little peck on Sam’s nose. 

It was this perfect little Sunday. Caught up in the quietness of it all, losing hours snuggling on the couch and chatting, being utterly unable to resist falling into lazy kisses, and then an hour of making out would go by before they even realized it. They were getting really good at kissing. Every now and then, Josh would mutter something about needing to get some reading done for tomorrow. But he wouldn’t move his head from Sam’s chest, and yet another hour would go by before he’d mention it again. Sam managed to get some straightening done, even with Josh pressed against him. And when they finally got dressed, Josh tagged along on a couple of errands that Sam  _ had _ to do before the work week: grocery shopping and picking up his dry cleaning. Chatting and checking off Sam’s list and bouncing about the metro, never quite holding hands but never far from it, it was the same patter and ease they’d always had with each other, but now there was this whole new level of comfort where doing these chores and these errands as the backdrop to their usual political discussions and trying to make each other laugh just felt positively  _ domestic _ . It briefly crossed Sam’s mind to wonder if passersby could tell they were sleeping together. He himself had always found himself making speculations when people watching: tell-tale little touches and looks and an ability to finish each other's thoughts. He wondered if they looked different together now. But mostly he just enjoyed being around Josh even just going about a normal Sunday. And he guessed his face showed it from across the metro car.

Sam had never thought of himself as someone who needed  _ this, _ but now that he had it with Josh, he never wanted to lose it. That night, after a day together that was so unproductive that, had he spent it any other way than doing nothing with Josh, it would have driven him crazy, he wrapped up around Josh to fall asleep, sated, spent, and impossibly close to Josh and yet never close enough, for the fourth night in a row. 

Josh was always out and snoring softly pretty much as soon as soon as his head hit the pillow and Sam’s arms were around him. Admittedly, it still took Sam a long time to fall asleep every night. Once he was in bed was when his mind really started racing, following a dozen different trains of thought he could not entertain during the day for which the quiet and the dark made room. Not bad thoughts, just ideas, things he was debating in his head, remarks he was polishing off and trying to decide if it was worth hopping up to scribble down. But with his head tucked into Josh’s neck, his mind quieted sooner. Ever since they started sharing a bed, he noticed that it wasn’t so much that he thought and thought until he wore himself out, but with Josh, he just simply that the thoughts didn’t feel as urgent. Nothing did. Ideas could float in and out of the corners of his mind without having to be chased and chewed on and spit back out. Breathing in Josh’s scent, he found himself more and more anchored to the feeling of Josh’s skin, to the warmth of the blankets, to the comfortable heaviness of sleep, and sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress. Like his body was being drawn into Josh’s rhythm. Like his mind was floating off to be with Josh’s off in the ether, giving him a chance to rest. So now, rather than spending an hour or two tossing and turning and trying to shut his brain off, he was gently lulled asleep by Josh’s presence. Josh made him slow down. Unclench his jaw. Stop focusing on anything other than their heartbeats tapping in and out of synchronicity. 

He could get used to this. And that’s the thought that still poked at him even as his brain unwired and he felt sleep start to claim him, starting first with the inches of his skin that touched Josh’s and warming from there like a sip of hot tea through the rest of him. 

_ This could be your life. _

It was a thought that made him smile with his whole face, with his whole body. For obvious reasons. 

On the other hand, it made his brain want to turn back on, and he didn’t want to go there yet. In his heart and in his gut, he could imagine this being his life. He’d known since early on that Josh would always be in his life, that this was the real deal. He was his best friend. But practically speaking, there were innumerable reasons why this couldn’t be his life. Reasons that came in the form of those appalled expressions on his parents face. Reasons that came in the form of the acceptance letters from law schools all over that he was expecting to start coming soon, because not to toot his own horn, but Magna Cum Laude graduates from Princeton weren’t statistically likely to get very many rejections. Reasons that came in the form of the panic that had touched Josh’s eyes the first time Sam got a little too close to him in the copy room. Reasons that came in the form of dozens of overheard water cooler conversations and cautionary tales that Washington romances were always short lived, going out in a blaze of glory as soon as they became politically inconvenient. And nothing about what Josh and Sam were doing was convenient. And it would become even less so if one of those acceptance letters sent him half-way across the country, or back to California, or to Oxford, which had been his longshot, pie-in-the-sky application, but he wouldn’t turn it down.

Maybe that’s why he’d been so teary all weekend. Because even though he knew he’d never lose Josh’s friendship, his logical side was warning him in vain to stop inserting waking up next to Josh into every single one of his plans for the future. But swept up in the soft steadiness of the past few weeks, Sam couldn’t help it. He tried hard not to let himself admit that he could imagine their life together with such clarity, so much he could  _ feel _ it in his chest.  ** But it was futile. When he woke up Monday morning, and Josh rolled over to place sleepy kisses that missed their target all over Sam’s face, he couldn’t fight down how desperately he wanted this life to go on and on. As they got ready side by side, drank their morning coffee in the quiet of the kind of love that already didn’t have to fill the silence, Sam looked at Josh on their way out the door and the thought that he’d been pushing aside was completely crystalized:  _ Josh Lyman is the love of your life. You better treasure every fucking second. _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was hard to write cause of Projection and harder to read cause of Life but I hope you enjoy it!  
-LP


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone who's ever talked to me knows i like to cause characters pain. you've been warned.

**JOSH**

Josh could separate his day-to-day life into two distinct parts: inside his apartment, and outside his apartment.

Inside his apartment, he stayed almost constantly glued to Sam’s side, kissing him and touching him and loving him and being kissed and touched and loved in return. Clothes were optional; in fact, Josh much preferred when they didn’t wear anything at all. Stripped bare in more ways than one, Josh never felt the need to be anything except himself. The privacy of his apartment had always been his escape from other people, but he didn’t need a break from Sam. He  _ wanted _ Sam around in his moments of weakness, because Sam made him feel like everything was still okay. It was like their own little slice of paradise, where nothing mattered except the two of them.

They spent nearly every night together now, no matter how early or late either of them finished work. Josh had thought on more than one occasion about asking Sam to move in with him, but he never knew exactly how to approach the topic, nor did he really know if it was a good idea. It seemed like it made more sense than each keeping an apartment that they could barely afford anyways, but Josh had always heard that living with someone was much harder when you really were stuck together. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting to get away from Sam, even for a few moments, but maybe just the knowledge that it was an option should they ever need it kept them from getting sick of each other. The last thing Josh wanted was to mess with what they had now, because it was so  _ good _ . 

Plus, he knew it was too soon. For all it felt like Sam had been a part of his life for years, it had really only been a few months, and a few weeks that they had been together like this. What if this was just some honeymoon period that would end? What if Sam didn’t intend for it to go that far? They had never really talked about what they were to each other, Josh realized, since that day by the copier. And the talking then had been…minimal. So to do something so permanent so early into whatever this was would no doubt be a mistake, no matter how much time they seemed to want to spend together.

Then there was the outside world. How would it look for two men to suddenly move in together? Sure it wasn’t completely unusual for guys their age to have roommates; D.C. was expensive and they didn’t make a lot to begin with. In all likelihood, no one would even question it. Objectively, on a good day, Josh realized that. But his good days were becoming fewer and further between, and were almost always confined to the four walls of their apartments.

Because the second he stepped outside, it was like a switch flipped in his brain. People would talk. People would assume. People would  _ know _ . To Josh, that seemed like the worst thing in the world. For as much as he wanted to shout his love of Sam from the rooftops, the thought of anyone finding out petrified him. At home they could be  _ them _ . But outside, Josh was almost afraid to even be seen with Sam.

It was ridiculous, he knew. He had spent time with Sam even before there was a  _ them _ , and no one had given it a second thought. At least, Josh hadn’t. Logically, there was absolutely no reason why they shouldn’t be able to go out to dinner or to the grocery store. But that didn’t stop Josh from looking over his shoulder every few minutes for a familiar face watching them skeptically. 

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his worrying. Panicked, Josh jerked his body around to come face to face with whoever it was. Mia smirked down at him knowingly, a face which made Josh a bit uneasy. It was she who worried him the most. The way she seemed to…read him. Once upon a time it had made her one of the few people Josh trusted in Washington, but now that he had real secrets Josh found himself wanting to guard himself even more when she was around.

“You doing okay there, jumpy?” she asked as Josh tried to steady his heart rate.

“Fine,” he replied quickly, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was a little after five, he could probably go home soon. He just had to wait for…

“Sam just called, wanted me to make sure you’re ready to go when he gets here,” Mia informed him.

“Oh, that’s…” Josh didn’t know how to finish that sentence. He needed… _ god _ they needed a better system than Sam just showing up here, or calling Mia at the end of the day. Maybe they could come up with a special meeting place where they could go when they were done for the day, somewhere away from the prying eyes and ears of their colleagues.

Mia rolled her eyes, not bothering to wait for him to finish. “I’ll let him know you’re done,” she huffed, patting him on the shoulder and returning to her desk. Josh took a steadying breath as he quickly flipped through the pages on the desk in front of him, trying to decide which memos to take home to work on that night.

A soft smile played over his lips as he pictured the evening that was ahead of the two of them. They were heading back to his apartment for the night. Sam was planning on cooking dinner but Josh had a feeling they’d end up distracted and order takeout around eight, when they were too hungry to think of doing anything else. They’d trade little kisses while cuddled together on the couch and Josh would pretend to scold Sam for distracting him from the readings he  _ definitely had to do _ but really could wait until the next morning.

The sound of the phone snapping back into its cradle had Josh schooling his features again, remembering where he was and why it was  _ so crucially important _ that he not think about Sam at work.

“He’ll be here in five!” Mia called over to him, and Josh didn’t even turn his head for fear she’d notice the blush that had made its way to his cheeks in anticipation of seeing his boy after a long day at work. They hadn’t met for lunch today, due to unfortunately-timed meetings and Josh’s general reluctance to go on dates during the workday, now that that was what they were. But as a result, it had been over ten hours since he had seen Sam and call him co-dependent but Josh  _ missed  _ him.

Instead, he started shoving things into his backpack, trying his best not to wrinkle the loose papers but by this point he had accepted that some crinkled files were inevitable. He grabbed his light coat from the rack by the door—it was still fairly cool outside, but Josh was from New England—and waited just outside the door to the office, away from the perceptive eyes of the executive assistant.

Josh leaned against the wall, scanning the hallways carefully. It was still fairly busy at five-fifteen on a Wednesday. Some of the more junior staffers were starting to head home, but those with busy schedules might be here for another hour or more. Josh was still fairly low-ranking, but he had been in this position for a few years now and he was good at his job. As a result, he ended up involved in some of the Congressman’s more high-profile projects, which meant he ended up working much longer hours than most other staffers in his same position. With any luck it would lead to a promotion soon, but Josh was thankful just to have the opportunity. The only downside was that longer hours meant more time away from Sam.

Speaking of Sam, Josh noticed the other man the moment he stepped onto the floor. Sam’s face lit up when he saw Josh waiting for him, and Josh had to try very hard not to do the same.

“Hey,” Josh greeted as casually as he could. Sam approached him to stand as close as he could, and once they were standing together, he brushed his hand against Josh’s. Softly. Carefully. Josh both wanted to lean into the contact and pull away entirely. He did the second.

Sam took his reluctance in stride, not letting the smile on his face dim even a little bit. “You ready to go then?” he asked.

“No, I’m just standing in the hall for fun,” Josh retorted, longing to take Sam’s hand as they started walking towards the exit.

“You think you’re funny, but you’re not,” Sam huffed. “Hey, I was thinking, it’s early enough, we could go out for dinner if you wanted? Just find somewhere on the way home without a long wait. It doesn’t have to be a big thing, it’s just been awhile since I’ve taken you out.”

Josh sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go out with Sam. He  _ really _ wanted to go out with Sam. The thought of Sam “taking him out” was enough to make him swoon, and the idea of getting dinner over with before they got too distracted—inevitable, once they got back to Josh’s—was a good one. But five-thirty in D.C. was peak time for people to be out and about on their way home from work or out for dinner or drinks and the odds of them running into someone who recognized them was too high to risk. 

So instead he replied, “I’m a bit tired. Can we just go home?” Sam agreed cheerfully, and Josh felt terrible lying to him, but he didn’t want Sam to worry, nor did he want Sam to think he was ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with him. It was at these moments where he thought that Sam deserved better, deserved someone who would want to walk down the street holding his hand. Not someone who was afraid to stand too close.

They took the crowded Metro home and Josh fondly listened to Sam babbling about his day, throwing in a few anecdotes himself. A couple times, Sam’s hand snuck between them to rest against Josh’s hip, and each time Josh would startle, looking around quickly to see if anyone was paying attention to them (no one was) before stepping away slightly. Sam looked a bit disappointed whenever he did that, but Josh felt like he had no control over it. Like it was an impulse. He kept himself so tightly guarded when they were around other people that Josh didn’t think he could receive Sam’s affection if he tried. 

The moment the door closed behind them, Sam’s arms were around him and Josh tensed for a second before sinking into the embrace. They were home, it was just them, they were safe here. Here, inside the apartment, he was free to love Sam as much as he wanted. And he loved Sam  _ so much _ . This was his place to express that love.

“Hey baby,” Sam whispered against his cheek. Josh shivered, pressing his face into Sam’s shoulder and letting Sam hold him.

“Missed you,” Josh mumbled in return. “Kiss me?”

Sam immediately obliged, and Josh felt the rest of his hesitance—leftover from his time spent out around other people—melt away as his world centered in on Sam and Sam alone. 

“I missed you too,” Sam grinned against his mouth. “Don’t like when I can’t see you for lunch,” he pouted.

“You could see me for dinner if you would go make it,” Josh suggested.

“ _ Hey!” _ Sam protested with a whine. “Since when did that become just my job?!”

“Baby, do you _ want _ me to cook?” Josh raised his eyebrows and Sam shook his head sheepishly.

“I’d rather you never enter the kitchen again,” Sam replied. “Except to cuddle me. You’re always allowed to do that. Whenever you want.”

“Good to know,” Josh giggled. “So you’d have no problem with me staying glued to your side, say, right now?”

“None whatsoever,” Sam confirmed. “In fact, I’d quite prefer that. We have to make up for all our time apart during the day.”

“As long as we’re making up for lost time…” Josh tugged at Sam’s tie until it came undone and draped it over the back of the couch, then started undoing his top buttons.

“Do you want dinner or sex?” Sam asked amusedly, making no effort to still Josh’s movements. 

“I want dinner, but there’s no reason you have to be fully clothed for that.”

“Okay, I’m going to have to disagree with you on that,” Sam pulled away, but kept an arm wrapped firmly around Josh’s waist as he tugged him towards the kitchen. “I can think of several safely-related reasons why one might not want to be naked while cooking.”

“Aww but that’s so booooringgg, Sammy,” Josh whined. “I haven’t seen you naked all day!”

“Baby, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to see me naked.  _ After _ I make dinner.”

“No fun,” Josh grumbled, but he allowed Sam to keep his shirt on for the moment.

Sam had gotten astonishingly good at cooking with an extra human attached to him; he dragged Josh around the kitchen effortlessly as he gathered ingredients for dinner. It looked like Sam was going to make pizza tonight, which had become one of Josh’s favorites once he found out that it  _ didn’t _ just come from a delivery guy. It was also Sam’s way to sneak new foods on as toppings without giving Josh the opportunity to protest. He was on to Sam’s tricks, but he really couldn’t complain too much because it always tasted good.

It looked like today’s topping of choice was some combination of unknown vegetables and grilled chicken. Josh watched skeptically, pressed against his side, as Sam chopped and cubed the toppings and spread them on the pre-made dough that had become a refrigerator staple.

“The sauce is green,” Josh commented, not bothering to hide the disdain in his voice.

“So it is,” Sam hummed absently. “And you’ll eat it all the same.” Josh found that hard to believe, but he had learned that Sam wasn’t going to argue with him on these things.

They cuddled on the couch while the pizza baked in the oven, a memo on clean water spread on Josh’s lap, though he wasn’t making much of an effort to read it. Not when Sam was right there, willing to make out and finally shedding himself of another layer of clothing (he insisted the undershirt stay on until they had finished eating but had abandoned his button up and work pants, so Josh considered it a win). Eventually, Sam broke away to go check on the pizza, leaving Josh in the living room by himself, bringing his attention to the news program they had turned on in the background.

It was talking about some kid in Oklahoma and Josh didn’t pay it much mind until he heard the word that always put him on edge when uttered by someone other than Sam.

_ Gay _ .

_ Seventeen year old Nick Bradey had been beaten so badly by some of his classmates that he was in the hospital. Because he was gay. They had hurt him because he was gay. _

Josh’s vision blurred around the edges as his breath caught in his throat. The papers on his lap spilled onto the floor as his hands came up to grab at his chest, desperate to get air to his lungs.

_ He had been beaten because he was gay _ .

This wasn’t supposed to happen here. He was  _ safe _ here. And anyways, he was overreacting by not allowing Sam to touch him when they went out, right? Because it wasn’t a big deal. No one would mind. Josh was just being over-cautious like usual. This…their  _ thing _ couldn’t hurt them. It was so  _ good _ , how could it? And they were  _ safe _ here.

Except.

_ Nick Bradey was in the hospital because he was gay. _

_ Nick Bradey could die. Because he was gay. _

Josh thought he was going to be sick. He didn’t notice when the channel had moved on to its next segment, nor did he notice when Sam reentered with a plate and napkin in each hand. Sam gently ran a hand down Josh’s face to get his attention, and Josh leapt to the other side of the couch like he had been burned.

“Baby?” Sam asked in confusion, sliding the plates to the center of the coffee table so they wouldn’t knock them off. “Are you okay?”

Josh blinked for a moment as the present started to come back to him. The program was now talking about what flowers grow best in what month and Josh took a deep breath as his chest finally loosened. Sam looked down at him in concern, carefully taking the place on the couch next to Josh. Close but not touching. Eyeing him like a caged animal who would either fight or flee at any moment.

“Fine,” Josh gasped quietly, pulling his knees up to his chest and training his eyes on the TV in front of him. He suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore, despite the fact that the pizza looked delicious, green sauce and all. After a minute, Sam gingerly placed his arm around Josh’s shoulder, checking to watch his reaction. Josh jumped a bit, but he didn’t pull away this time, allowing Sam to pull him to his side.

Sam seemed to gauge that Josh wasn’t interested in eating, because other than a few offers of bites from his own slice he didn’t push it. Josh had to focus to keep his heart rate normal, and he still felt like he might be sick, despite not having eaten anything in hours. He took deep shaky breaths and hoped with all his might that Sam wouldn’t notice anything off. Or wouldn’t ask if he did.

Because suddenly it was  _ real. _ Josh was used to being scared at work. He was used to being abstractly worried that someone they knew might see them out at dinner and get them in  _ trouble _ . Whatever that meant. Josh had had an abstract fear that his… _ gayness _ …could cause him some problems. But this wasn’t abstract. This was a kid, only ten years younger than Josh. Who had had a life. Who presumably had a family and friends, who went to school, who might’ve had dreams of going to college soon. Who knows, he might’ve had dreams of going to law school one day. Or of working in the Capitol. 

But now. Now this kid was fighting for his life in a hospital in Oklahoma because he was  _ gay _ .

And Josh Lyman was fighting for his breath in a tiny Washington D.C. apartment. Because he was gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> let us know what you think!


	19. Chapter 19

**SAM**

The bed felt empty when Sam woke up the next morning. He instinctively reached towards what had become Josh’s side and opened his eyes startled when his hand met the mattress instead of Josh’s skin. Josh’s skin was always warm, and Sam was always cold. Josh was like a space heater, so when he wasn’t pressed against Sam, his body temperature completely dropped. 

Looking over, he saw Josh’s back, pale and soft, curled around himself on the edge of the bed. As far away as physically possible without actually being on the floor. He heard Josh’s breathing, and it sounded shallow and sleepless.

“Hey,” Sam whispered, “Baby?”

Josh either didn’t hear him or was too tired to acknowledge him. Sam sighed. Josh had been flinching more and more at his touch, and last night, he had been on tenterhooks, unable to really eat or talk much. Sam didn’t like to push. He just wanted to be there, warmly and waiting when Josh was ready. It had happened a few times when Josh just got grumpy and would later come storming through the door and diatribe about what was bothering him. Usually work. Usually something he couldn’t quite solve. Sometimes a spat with a coworker. Pushing him to talk made him crankier. Just being there and willing to listen when it was time. That’s all Sam could do. 

So Sam didn’t ask. He just shifted to wrap himself around Josh’s back, dipping his knees in the bend of Josh’s legs, tucking his chin on Josh’s shoulder, folding his hands over Josh’s chest. For a split second, Josh’s already tight form tensed even more and Sam wondered if he should just give him space. But then, on a long shaky exhale, Josh’s whole body melted into Sam’s.

They stayed here for another half hour or so before Sam managed to pull himself away, leaving a soft kiss on the back of Josh's neck, and got ready for work. It always took Sam about a solid hour longer than Josh to get ready in the morning, so there was always that first part of the day Sam had to himself. Not that he needed time away from Josh. Just that he liked being able to collect his thoughts and straighten things up and go through his morning routine without Josh distracting him by being cute and cuddly. 

Josh emerged from the bedroom in his grey suit and a striped red tie just as Sam was putting the leftover pesto pizza in tupperware. Wordlessly, he crossed the room and placed his head on Sam’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. Neither of them said anything. Neither of them had to. 

\--

It was kind of a slow day around the office. Congresswoman Levy was back in California for some kind of event to which Sam was not privy. A handful of the staffers went with her for things like that, but he was here with little else to do but proofread some remarks and press releases. Since he’d majored in English at Princeton, he was the one who everybody sent their stuff over to make sure the I’s were dotted and the T’s were crossed and none of the commas were spliced.

So he ended up an hour before lunch time with nothing to do but flip through the newspaper and wait for one of the other aides to give him something to proofread. 

He saw the story, barely even a paragraph, about Nick Bradey and almost dropped the paper on the floor. 

\--

“Hey!” Sam greeted Mia, “He here?”

Mia just nodded in Josh’s direction, so Sam went to his desk. Josh was on the phone with his back to the desk, not saying much besides scrambling to get a few words in. After a peeved, “And you have a fine afternoon yourself, sir,” Josh swiveled around and gave Sam a look while puffing air out of his cheeks as if to say  _ don’t even ask.  _

Sam gave a dry chuckle before saying, “Looks like you could use a change of scenery.”

Josh rolled his shoulders and groaned, “Does a change of scenery include a change in the House Majority Leader?” 

“C’mon,” Sam rolled his eyes, “I packed lunch. Let’s go!” 

For a few minutes, Josh dragged his feet, asking why they couldn’t just eat in the office, offering up a million excuses bogus excuses (something about how his shoelaces kept coming untied?), and listing off all the stuff he had to read while he was eating. 

“Because the sun is out today, those aren’t real reasons, and you can bring your reading with you!” Sam said over and over again. 

Finally, Josh relented. Sam asked if he needed his jacket, and Josh just scoffed, “It’s the middle of March.”

The 20-minute walk was brisk, Sam with his light jacket hugged around his ribs, letting his elbow bump Josh, whose hands were buried in his pockets, eyes fixed ahead.

“Where are we going?” Josh asked, and Sam just shrugged, “It’s amusing that you think this is fun for me. Just gallivanting all over town with you, having no idea what to expect.” 

“It’s fun for you; you’re just crabby,” Sam laughed. 

A few blocks later, Josh said, “By the time we get there, we’re gonna have to turn back around.” 

“It’s the end of the week, baby, nobody’s keeping track of how long we’re at lunch,” Sam retorted. Josh didn’t say anything after that. His pace dropped out of step with Sam, a beat behind. Sam could tell Josh was very intently  _ not _ looking at him. That happened sometimes in public. Where Sam could feel Josh avoiding looking at him almost as intently as he could feel Josh’s eyes on him while they made love. This was a different kind of intensity. It was cold like jumping into a freezing sea. The other burned like running back onto the hot sand. 

They got to the National Portrait Gallery and Sam weaved through the elegant marbled lobby, past the little gift shop and out to a courtyard between the two wings, full of big pots of purple flowers. The trickle of a small fountain was the only noise besides some birds and pages flipping in the books and binders of the few other people who were there. It was mostly just open and quiet and shady when they found a table by a small tree, and Sam began unpacking their leftovers. 

“Why did we have to come all the way here?” Josh looked around.

“You don’t like it?” Sam mused, passing him two slices on a paper towel.

Josh took a bite, “Didn’t say that.”

“I just remember coming here on a trip to see the Presidents and thinking this would be a peaceful place to come or work or study or have lunch with someone I love,” Sam shrugged, straightening out paper towel and arranging the rest of the pizza between them so Josh would have room for his multitude of biders. 

“See, you say shit like that and it makes me seem like a total asshole,” Josh said with his mouth full. Sam just took a bite and blinked innocently before Josh added, “This green stuff isn’t bad.” 

Sam chuckled again, he did that a lot, particularly when Josh was in one of these pissy moods. He was just so cute when he was angry. He let his knee slip so it brushed Josh’s under the table. But Josh yanked his away immediately, bouncing it up and down and just burying himself in the papers in front of him. 

“Hey,” Sam said quietly after he finished his first slice, “So, they’re having a candlelight vigil for that kid Nick Bradey tonight down at the reflecting pool.”

On the name of the boy who was killed, Josh’s glance shot up, his whole body went still, and his creamy white skin turned almost grey. 

“I think we should go,” Sam told him when it became clear Josh wasn’t going to say anything. 

“You…” Josh swallowed, “You’re joking, right?”

“Why in the world would I be?” Sam nudged his glasses and felt his brow furrow, “He was a kid who got murdered! We should pay our respects!”

“But he was…” Josh bent over his binder now, his face urgent and struggling, like the word wasn’t even in his language and he still wasn’t sure how to pronounce it when, when his voice dropped to a whisper, “He was  _ gay.”  _

“He was a kid who got murdered!” Sam repeated slowly. This should be a no-brainer. 

“Because he was gay,” Josh hissed, “Only gay people are gonna be there.”

“I…” Sam blinked, “I’m gay, Josh, I don’t mind going somewhere that only gay people are going to be. Besides, it shouldn’t just be gay people who care when a child is killed.”

“But it is,” Josh said again, looking at his watch, “It shouldn’t be, but it is.”

“Okay, well,” Sam touched the corners of his mouth with his paper towel, “I’m going. You can come with me or not.”

_ “Not,” _ Josh was standing up now, packing up his binder.

“That’s fine!”

They both sighed, and Josh kept shoving things back into his backpack, “I told you we’d have to turn right back around the minute we got here.” With a huff, he strode off back towards the exit before Sam had even finished chewing. 

\--

The candlelight vigil wasn’t very large, not compared to other events Sam had seen down here since moving. It was somewhere between fifty and a hundred people. Walking around the reflecting pool, where the first buds of cherry blossoms blended seamlessly with the sunset, his chest just ached. He had to fight back tears hearing what people read and said and prayed for this boy, but he also had his own, admittedly more self-involved concerns leaving pangs in his chest. 

Josh hadn’t said a word to him their whole walk back to the office once Sam caught up with him. Sam had just left for his own place to change into a warm sweater and a pair of jeans and grab a bite between work and the vigil, and he hadn’t heard from Josh all evening. He knew they were going to be fine. Josh had temperamental moments. He knew it wasn’t about him. But it made his whole body feel like it might just collapse underneath him thinking that all Josh could think was that this boy was dead because he was gay. He wouldn’t let himself come and hear all the stories of love and support this little pocket of people poured into the early Spring night air. That Josh couldn’t see that being  _ seen _ didn’t always have to be bad. 

When the vigil dispersed, Sam felt like there was too much stirring inside his chest and his lungs and his fingertips to just go home. So he started walking without much aim or intention, following the cherry trees. He had to admit he loved them. Even at dusk, they looked like bundles of stardust scattered around the basin. He knew that made him less of a D.C.-er and more of a tourist to love them. But he loved not just the way they looked, but what they symbolized as a gift from the Japanese: progress, peace, moving forward to find something functioning and beautiful after a conflict. Maybe he just needed to hear that right now, which is why he was thinking about it. 

Before he even realized that’s where he’d been headed, he found himself climbing steps of the Jefferson memorial, empty, illuminated, and radiant like the curve of the moon itself, against the starless, black sky. 

He didn’t love how much of a sucker he was for this stuff, gazing up at the statue of a man who’d owned slaves, who’d contributed in the displacement of American Indians, and to the subjection of women. Yet, he couldn’t help but read those quotes and be moved each time, reduced to something like awe, by the ideas those words articulated, even if the country they created was still in the process of actualizing them for everyone. Everyone like him. Everyone like Josh. Everyone like that boy who had been beaten and killed. 

“Sam?”

He spun around and saw Josh at the top of the stairs, hands still stuffed in his pockets, eyes still darting everywhere but anywhere Sam could meet them. 

“Josh!” Sam cried in surprise, his voice echoing through the empty rotunda, “How did you…?”

“I realized you were right,” Josh ran a hand through his hair, “I came down to try and join the vigil, but I kept… psyching myself out and didn’t make it until the tail end. I saw you wandering off this way, but it didn’t seem… appropriate to yell out to you.” 

“Oh,” was all Sam could say. 

They stood across the space from each other for a few silent moments before Josh finally let his eyes flick up at the statue as he took a few ambling steps towards Sam to say, “Makes you wonder what he would have to say if he were here.”

“I think he’d say something along the lines of ‘I’m 245 years old, why in God’s name are you people still asking me for my opinion?’” Sam said quickly, getting a flat little laugh from Josh, but he managed to catch a spark of a dimple.

“I was kind of a prick, Sammy,” Josh sighed, making it to Sam’s side, “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to…” Sam started.

But Josh went on, “This is all still new to me.”

They stood side-by-side, a few feet apart, looking up at Thomas Jefferson so they didn’t have to look at each other. 

“I know,” Sam said softly.

“You’ve had years to come to terms with what all this means,” Josh kept going, his voice was steady, but Sam could tell he was floundering with his words, “I’ve just had a couple months.” 

After another one of those silences where Sam could practically hear the lights buzzing, he asked Josh, “What do you think I think this means?” 

Josh was quiet but he said softly, “I don’t know.”

“I’m not somehow more evolved than you are just because I’ve known for longer,” Sam practically whispered, “I still get the wind knocked out of me when I see stories like this.” 

“But your response is to come down here,” Josh retorted, “My response is to hide.” 

Another silence. Sam had never felt much like he had to hide. He never felt like he could be out. But he never felt like he had to be  _ in  _ either.

“The kid is dead because he was gay,” Josh kept going, “When you hear that, it makes you want to come out and be a part of the community. When I hear that, it just… it makes me scared. It makes me want to be anything else but a part of the community.” 

“The kid is not dead because he was gay,” Sam replied, “The kid is dead because his killers hate gay people.” 

“They killed him because  _ he was gay,” _ Josh shot back, his tone getting a little more adversarial. A little more defensive. 

“They killed him because  _ they hate gay people,”  _ Sam emphasized, “It’s not  _ his _ fault. It’s not the fault of his gayness. It’s the fault of murderers. Murderers who hate something in abstraction that he represented to them. Do you see the difference?”

Josh let out a sharp exhale and crossed away, saying, “Yeah, the semantics don’t really change the fact that, in the past three months, I’ve realized that there are people who want me dead because of who fucks me.” 

“Josh…” 

“All I’m saying is that you gotta give me some time, Seaborn,” Josh turned back to face him and threw his hands up, “I didn’t grow up in California where this stuff is starting to be normalized. Where  _ ‘it’s not the fault of gayness’ _ just rolls of my tongue. I didn’t spend college getting to go hang out with other people like me. I didn’t even know I was like me until just a couple months ago, and I didn’t really accept it until just a couple  _ weeks _ ago. I grew up in New England, where everyone is a Conservative Republican or a Conservative Democrat, and I’ve been here where being gay ends your career in one way or another. I don’t have a foundation of West Coast tolerance and Pride Parades and Harvey Milk is here to recruit you. I can’t just  _ hold your hand _ when people might see us! I can’t  _ do  _ it!”

Through all of this, Josh’s voice hand gotten louder and more emphatic. Desperate almost. His eyes begging Sam to understand. Begging him to forgive him. All Sam wanted to do was embrace him. 

“Baby…” Sam said. Josh blew more air out of his nose, like he was trying to figure out if he wanted to apologize for raising his voice and collapse in Sam’s arms or keep ranting, “Josh, I told my parents at Thanksgiving.” 

Now Josh just blinked. 

“What?”

“I told my parents I’m gay in November,” Sam said, “They haven’t spoken to me since.” 

It was true, but it hadn’t felt true until he said it out loud and in this way. He and his parents were no longer on speaking terms. Because he was gay. No, because they hated that he was gay. They hadn’t even called him for his birthday last week. A day Josh had asked what he wanted to do, so they’d spent all day in the Air and Space Museum and then all night drinking fancy rum in bed and Josh had fallen asleep in his arms after giving him 22 hickeys and 22 kisses in 22 spots on his body. He’d laughed and learned and loved, and wondered all day if they’d call or send a card. And they hadn’t. So he had let Josh delight him in 22 different ways and tried not to think about it. But now, looking into Josh’s big, brown eyes, he wished he’d told him sooner. Wished he hadn’t held back from sharing his pain, not just his joy. But he’d reasoned that Josh’s company and Josh’s joy functioned as too keen an antidote to the pain to muddy it with anything else. 

“Sam…” 

“I’m not trying to say I have it harder,” Sam said, “I’m just trying to say there are things I still struggle with, too, despite being... from a different community... and having known as long as I have.” He paused again and watched Josh cast his gaze all about the rotunda. “I haven’t got it all figured out. I don’t expect you to do anything differently than exactly what you’re doing,” 

“They haven’t even  _ spoken to you?” _ Josh asked softly. Sam shook his head. “Since  _ November?” _

“They don’t even pick up the phone,” Sam said, “I stopped trying.” 

Josh just looked flabbergasted. As he crossed to one of the little benches against the portico, his shoulders were dropped and deflated. His face looked like he was still trying to comprehend what Sam had just said. He sat down and leaned his head against the marble. Sam moved to sit down next to him, and they just sat there for a few moments, Sam’s eyes returning to the quote on the other side of the rotunda:  _ I know but one code of morality for men whether acting singly or collectively. _ Josh dipped his head to place it on Sam’s shoulder.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone is staying safe/healthy/sane during this crazy time!

**JOSH**

The uneasiness in the pit of his stomach had become almost a constant for Josh.

He was still careful. He couldn’t _ not _ be. Nick Bradey’s picture—the one that had accompanied the news segment as well as the article printed about him—haunted him. No matter who was at fault there, and Josh wouldn’t disagree with Sam’s assertion that the hatred of those who hurt him was to blame, Nick Bradey was dead. No matter who was at fault, it was something that really happened to people like Josh. And no matter what he did or what anyone said, that would always be tugging at the back of his mind.

These were the times where Josh wished he could have Sam’s outlook on life. Sam had…he couldn’t say that Sam’s behavior hadn’t changed since the vigil, and their conversation that had followed, because it had. But where Josh had become more tense, more self-conscious as he tried to navigate the balance between protecting himself and loving Sam, Sam acted like the last remaining weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 

It sort of made sense, Josh supposed. Sam tended to wear his heart on his sleeve a little more than Josh did, and he was much more comfortable after sharing his feelings. Sam liked when they told each other everything; Josh imagined that the conversation had left him feeling a lot more peaceful.

Since November. Sam had been keeping that to himself since November. Apart from that being roughly ten years in Sam-keeping-secrets time, Josh couldn’t imagine having that sort of…rejection…weighing on him for that long. It made Josh feel like a terrible person—and a terrible person for Sam—that he hadn’t noticed. That he had been so preoccupied with his own hypothetical issues that he didn’t even realize that Sam was hurting.

He had tried talking to Sam about it the next day, to ask him if there was anything he could do to help, but Sam had just replied that “the fact that you’re here makes it more than worth it” and kissed his forehead so tenderly Josh wanted to cry, and that had been it. Sam had been…he seemed okay. 

Josh had tried to channel that, too. Once he had shared with Sam his fears and insecurities, and heard that Sam, in his own way, had them as well, he tried to stop himself from shutting Sam out again. He knew he had done it a few times, because it was his instinct. Protect himself by keeping himself from being too vulnerable. But their argument at lunch that day had reminded him that he could lose all of this. That he wasn’t guaranteed Sam would stick around him forever. It amazed him sometimes that Sam had even stuck around this long to begin with, but if he kept pushing him away, he would have no one to blame but himself if the other man eventually just got fed up and left.

He couldn’t lose Sam. In some ways, he would rather lose his life that lose Sam. Sam had been the best thing to happen to him in quite some time, and whatever he needed to do to make sure Sam stayed right where he was…Josh would do it. Anything. So if that meant disregarding his insecurities and making sure Sam felt all the love Josh had for him, he was going to do that. It wasn’t always the most comfortable, having this constant knot in his stomach. But for Sam, it was worth it.

So he let Sam take him out for lunch and basked in the smile that took over Sam’s face on the occasions where Josh initiated a lunch date himself. He let Sam walk close by his side on their way home at night, once they had made it out of the building (never inside the building…everyone inside the building knew their names. It was too much to risk inside the building…), even let Sam hold his hand a few times the last couple blocks from the metro to his apartment, protected by the dark of the night and the relative anonymity they enjoyed further away from the Capitol building. On weekends, Sam would drag Josh out of bed at some disgusting hour to go for a run before breakfast, and Josh would let Sam kiss his cheek when no one was looking on the way into the diner down the street from his place. 

At home, Josh tried his best to clear his mind of all the terrible thoughts that made him pull away, fought every impulse that might suggest to Sam that he was getting ready to spiral again. He didn’t want to spiral. He _ wanted _ Sam to hold him. Constantly, in fact. It was the strangest feeling, to simultaneously want to burrow as far into Sam’s embrace as physically possible and run as far away as he could. He couldn’t get close enough, but also felt like he was too close. Unsettling.

His primary technique for overcoming this internal battle was, as usual, distraction. His favorite distraction was, of course, sex. When presented with a naked Sam, it was very difficult to think about anything else, much less worry about why he shouldn’t see a naked Sam. In many ways, they were barely a step above horny teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other for longer than a day. At least, Josh certainly couldn’t. Most days, the second they stepped through the door Josh would get to work stripping Sam of as much clothing as he could get away with, and Sam rarely put up much of a fight. He wouldn’t cook naked, that was his one rule, but once dinner had been delivered or prepared, they usually spent the rest of the evening lounging around in various states of undress, kissing because they wanted to, and eventually dragging each other towards the bedroom (by way of the kitchen sink, because even horny Sam refused to leave dirty plates on the coffee table).

In the span of just a few months, Josh had gone from someone who wondered why he never felt the same desire for sex as his classmates in high school and college, to someone who sometimes went multiple rounds in one night and still wanted more. Must have something to do with the pretty boy from California with pretty blue eyes and a wicked sharp brain. If Josh had to guess.

Then there was the in between, the lazy Saturday afternoons after they showered together post-run, and before it was time to start thinking about dinner. This was the time Josh had to fill most carefully, because letting his mind wander for too long often sent him back to the evening news segment from a few weeks ago, and he didn’t want to worry Sam like that again. Sometimes Sam wanted to use this time to run errands that he hadn’t had time for during the week, but Josh had mastered the art of “clinging to him so tightly that he had no choice but to stay and cuddle,” so more often than not they sat on the couch snacking on last night’s leftovers and whatever other snacks with which Sam had stocked their respective kitchens and watching whatever movie or sporting event was on tv.

Josh shifted so that he was lying even more on top of Sam, grinning smugly when Sam’s hands started massaging at his scalp. _ The Godfather _ played on the TV across from them, but Josh was only half paying attention, despite being the one who practically begged Sam to keep it on. In his defense, it was hard to focus on much of anything with Sam touching him like that.

“I like Brando better in his earlier movies, I think,” Sam commented, after Josh had been quiet for a few minutes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Josh protested. “This is like…the greatest movie ever!”

“It’s really not,” Sam replied easily. “_ Streetcar _ was one of my favorite movies when I was younger, though.”

“_ Streetcar _ was good,” Josh allowed. “I used to watch it a lot whenever…yeah, and then I just kinda watched it for him? Like, when I was really young. He wore that shirt, remember? It was like…on his arms? I used to…” He trailed off when he noticed Sam’s amused expression. “What?” Sam raised his eyebrows. Josh wracked his brain for a moment, before a lightbulb finally went off. “Wait a minute, was I gay for Marlon Brando?”

Sam laughed. “Sounds like it,” he agreed, kissing Josh’s cheek fondly, but Josh wasn’t ready to move past this new revelation quite yet.

“So you mean like…I was gay before I even knew I was gay? Like I was gay when I was watching _ Streetcar _?”

“Honey, you’ve always been gay,” Sam reminded him patiently. “You might not have had a word for it, but it didn’t just magically happen.”

Josh should probably be alarmed by the direction this conversation was taking—so much for distraction—but now that he started he couldn’t stop.

“Wait, wait, so who else was I gay for?” he asked, sitting up and staring back at Sam like Sam had some groundbreaking information to share with him.

“I don’t know baby, you tell me,” Sam chuckled. “What other guys were you really interested in? Were there any movies or bands you really liked? Anyone in particular you always looked forward to seeing on screen?”

Josh thought for a moment, and Sam pulled him down again so they were cuddled together. 

“I…umm…this is really stupid and basic…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sam assured him.

Josh pretended to concentrate on a loose string at the hem of his t-shirt to give himself something else to look at as he admitted “James Dean” so quietly that Sam probably wouldn’t have heard had Josh not been sitting in his lap.

“Aww you like the bad boys?” Sam teased, poking at Josh’s side until Josh turned to look at him. “I don’t blame you though, he’s…” Sam trailed off, as though he was picturing James Dean in his head. “Yeah, he’s pretty alright. And you know,” he lowered his voice to just above a whisper, “nothing’s been confirmed, _ obviously _ , but there are some rumors…about James Dean and Rock Hudson. During filming for _ Giant _.”

Josh felt his eyes go wide. “Th-they…you mean…” he gestured vaguely between the two of them, silently asking _ you mean like what we do? _

“You knew Rock Hudson was gay, right?” Sam asked. “I mean, that became pretty public a few years ago.”

“No, no, I-I had heard _ that _ ,” Josh replied. “But… _ James Dean _?”

Sam shrugged. “We may never know for sure. But damn, it’s nice to think about, huh?” Josh blushed and did his best _ not _ to think about that. “Who else?”

“Umm…” Josh closed his eyes, trying to picture himself as a teenager. What movies had he found himself transfixed by? What pair of arms or chest or nicely sculpted face had he found himself drawn to? What… “Oh. Um. Paul Newman. Because of, y’know…the eyes…” he mumbled.

“Oh yeah?” Sam smirked, a teasing glint in his own eye.

“Apparently I have a type, okay, what do you want from me, Seaborn?”

Sam threw his head back and laughed, and Josh pouted because his unconscious gay awakening as a teenager _ really _ wasn’t something to laugh about, in Josh’s opinion, but Sam seemed beyond amused by this whole conversation.

“I’m really not laughing at you baby, I promise,” Sam assured him through giggles, stroking at Josh’s hair in a way that was probably meant to be patronizing. “It’s just…you’re so cute sometimes.”

“I’m twenty-six!” Josh protested, because men his age were _ not _ cute, thank you very much. Sam was cute. He had the eyes.

“And so cute,” Sam replied, slopping a big kiss to the side of his face. “What else you got?”

“Why has this become 'let’s lay out a timeline of who Josh was gay for and when,' don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Ooh, that’s an excellent idea!” Sam exclaimed, and he started to move as if he actually wanted to grab a pen and a sheet of paper to diagram out all of Josh’s potential celebrity crushes throughout the years, but Josh just tightened his octopus-like grip around Sam’s torso and kept him pinned to the couch.

“God, what is _ wrong _ with you?” Josh huffed, but he punctuated it with a kiss so Sam would know he was only teasing.

“I just want to know what I’m up against!” Sam defended.

“Nothing, you are up against absolutely nothing, you are my one and only love, Sam Seaborn, now can we please watch the movie? Or at least try?”

“One more? Please?” Sam pleaded, fluttering his maddeningly-long eyelashes in a way that the asshole _ knows _Josh can’t refuse.

“Ugh fine. Let’s see…” Josh thought for a moment. “Paul McCartney. He had eyelashes that you can like…see from his side profile? Kinda like yours. And his hands…I…used to look at his hands. Told myself I was watching him play.”

“Watching him play, huh?” Sam teased. “I don’t blame you, though. John Lennon. I did the same thing.”

“Really?” Josh asked. “You…you liked John Lennon?”

“Yeah, I mean, I can’t quite put my finger on it,” Sam replied, suddenly bashful. “It was just…something about him was very…very nice. You know?” Josh did know. “John Lennon was bi, did you know that?” Sam asked suddenly.

“H-he was?”

“Yeah, he talked about it a bit more near…later in life. How it didn’t make a difference to him. Always thought that was cool to hear. Y’know, growing up like I am.”

“Did he…with anyone?” Josh stuttered, feeling his brain go into overload with all this new information about men he had heard about growing up, some men he had even looked up to (he used to motivate himself to practice piano by reminding himself that out there, somewhere Paul McCartney was probably playing piano, too). Of course he knew other gay people existed, if for no other reason than Sam had _ slept _ with more than one other man, but for some reason he had never even entertained the thought that there could be actual public figures out there just like him who had been successful and accomplished. It was comforting in ways Josh couldn’t even begin to describe.

“Who, John? Not that he ever said by name. But, who knows, all those long nights on the road, sharing drinks, sharing beds…” Sam wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Josh pushed his shoulder to shut him up.

“_God_ you’re awful,” he groaned, while doing his best to _not_ _think about that_ either. Josh was definitely blushing again though, so it couldn’t have been working too well.

“You love me,” Sam mocked.

“I might have to reconsider that if you don’t _ shut up _ and let me watch the movie.”

“You weren’t watching the movie anyways, you were thinking about Marlon Brando in a tight shirt, but do what you gotta do.”

“I’m going to get a beer,” Josh announced then, mostly because thinking about Marlon Brando in a tight shirt was _ also _ something he didn’t need to do right now (he pretty much spent all of his time in proximity to Sam just a hair away from horny, and it didn’t take much to tip him over that edge these days). “Want one?”

Sam waved him off, and Josh untangled himself from the mess of limbs the two of them had become and stretched his back a bit, noting the way Sam’s eyes went right for the little sliver of skin at his waist as he did so. Apparently he wasn’t the only one almost horny.

In the kitchen, he grabbed a beer from the fridge, then started searching around Sam’s drawers for a bottle opener. He was getting more familiar with where Sam put stuff, but he had still only stayed over at Sam’s apartment a handful of times, and usually Sam was too busy playing perfect host to ever let Josh look for anything.

Sam had entirely too many kitchen gadgets, is what Josh was realizing, many of which Josh had never seen him use, nor could he identify the uses if asked. Before Sam, Josh hadn’t even had a complete set of utensils. Sam had _ drawers upon drawers _ of random knickknacks that Josh thought looked more like torture devices for tiny humans than anything, but somehow no bottle opener? 

He was searching the drawer next to the refrigerator when some loose papers on the counter above caught his eye. Usually, Sam was meticulous about sorting through and putting away his mail the second he received it, and Josh almost never saw clutter around his apartment, so he was surprised and intrigued by the presence of the letters. He knew it was a bad idea, he had no business snooping through Sam’s mail, but he really wanted to know what was so…important that Sam had to think about it.

The first one he picked up had a return address to California. USC. Oh. Sam was looking a law schools. 

Josh wasn’t necessarily shocked. Sam had mentioned law school back in November, when Josh had asked him about the Senate campaign, which had led to probably the closest thing they had had to a fight in the time they had known each other. Maybe that was why Josh had forgotten about it, he had brushed most of that conversation away. But it had been different back then, right? They were _ together _ now, whatever that meant. Sam didn’t need to go away to law school when he had all the opportunities he needed right here. Surely he was just looking to appease his parents? Apply to a few schools close to home, go through all the motions, then decide it wasn’t the right fit for him?

But as Josh looked through the stack of letters, his heart sank as he realized that that was not at all the case. Sam had applied to a few schools in California, true: USC, Berkeley, Stanford, Abraham Lincoln. But he had applied for even more all across the country. University of Chicago, NYU, Duke, Harvard, Yale, Vanderbilt, Michigan, University of Texas at Austin, Northwestern, even Oxford had sent him a response. With each name he read, the now-familiar knot in Josh’s stomach twisted tighter and tighter. This was not someone looking to brush off his parents. Sam was going to law school. Sam was going to law school _ far away _. 

He did the math in his head. Even the ones on the East Coast were over three hours away by car, certainly nowhere Josh could see him every day. Why hadn’t he applied to Georgetown? GW? Even UVA was a reasonable distance from the city! The only explanation Josh could think of was that Sam wanted out, and he wanted to let Josh down easy. 

Suddenly, it was like all of Josh’s worst fears were confirmed. He felt tears prick in the corners of his eyes as he realized that his days with the love of his life were numbered, when it seemed like they’d hardly had any time together at all. It had always seemed inevitable, yet only now did it seem _ real _. He was going to lose Sam, and Josh was pretty sure there was nothing he could do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh...if you havent noticed, i like following soft happy chapters with Not Happy endings oops...this chapter was a collaborative effort more so than many bc lily knows way more queer history than i do 
> 
> let us know what you think! cant believe we're 2/3 done with this already holy heck


	21. Chapter 21

**SAM**

“Jesus  _ Christ _ , Sam, just kill it!!” 

Cup and envelope in hand, Sam cried for the fifteenth time, “American House Spiders are absolutely harmless to humans!” He made another little bounce to trap it under the cup against the wall, but it scurried off towards the bookshelf just in time. “Besides, they eat other bugs.”

“That sounds like propaganda,” Josh shot from where he stood, both feet on Sam’s couch, in nothing but a pair of Sam’s boxers, clutching a throw pillow to his chest. 

Sam poised to try to trap the spider again, but it made a little jerking motion and darted back across a shadow, eliciting a screech from Josh, “OH MY GOD THAT THING IS  _ HUGE.” _

It wasn’t. 

“It has like forty eyes.”

It didn’t. 

“It’s gonna lay eggs in all our stuff and hatch a whole colony of spiders that will come back and attack us in our sleep to take their revenge on you for ousting it from its lair.” 

It wouldn’t.

And when Sam finally caught it, balanced on top of the envelope beneath the cup, and gingerly tossed it out into the little window box filled with fat succulents and tiny bursts of narcissus asturiensis and paperwhites and tall, red and yellow tulips that were about to explode open, Josh collapsed onto the couch vowing to never return to Sam’s place now that he knew it was infested with creepy-crawlies.

He did. He came back often. In fact, if they’d spent most of the Fall at Josh’s place, they spent most of the Spring at Sam’s. This, Sam decided, was appropriate, because if Josh was a season, he’d be Fall, blustering and gorgeous. And Sam had always loved the time of year where Spring became summer. 

Except this year, as the cherry blossoms started dropping off their spindly branches and the chilly white skies turned to vast bright blue ones, the warmer the days got, the closer Sam got to having to send a letter he didn’t really want to send. 

He’d applied to law school months before he had Josh had ever become…whatever this was that they were doing. And the deadlines were long behind him the first time his fingers became intertwined with Josh’s. If he had known he would have a reason to stay in D.C. besides a crush on his best friend, he would have considered law schools closer by. It wasn’t that he didn’t  _ like _ D.C., it’s just that he understood his capacity for restlessness and he never felt that alluring pull of the next place, of the next experience, of the next adventure when he looked at law schools in D.C.

But now he had Josh. And that made everything more complicated. It didn’t change his resolve to go to law school. Law school was what was next. Josh was now. That was next. 

He had to admit that some nights, as Josh fell asleep in his arms, he still couldn’t shake this little glimmer of something like hope that Josh was next, too. That Josh was going to be part of every next step he made for the rest of his life. 

That’s what he was thinking about one warm April evening when he tossed and turned next to the soft shadow of Josh’s lightly snoring form. He was thinking about how he wasn’t the kind of person to shape his life around somebody else, but he also didn’t want to be the kind of person to let a good thing slip through his fingers. 

Not that Josh was a thing. 

What they had was a good thing. 

He was in his head.

He huffed and slid in sock feet back into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of cabernet. He had meant to get water, but when he took a sip and the wine hit his lips, he chalked it up to a miracle. Hiking Josh’s cotton pajama bottoms back up over his hips, he went to the cabinet he’d been avoiding for weeks now and took the stack of letters in his hand. With a long sip, he plopped them on the table and dropped to the chair, tucking a knee beneath him and setting his glass down. 

“We can make this work,” he found himself muttering, not really sure who he was assuring. 

He sorted the letters into three stacks. The first and shortest stack was made up of the schools that had rejected him, only Oxford and NYU. The second stack was the tallest: the ones that had accepted him, but that he didn’t want to go to for some reason or another. These were mostly the ones he had applied to in California before his parents had stopped talking to him. Not that they were all near his parents, but having an entire continent between them was comforting right now. The others in this stack were the ones he had determined a long time ago were too cold to be worth it now that he wouldn’t be able to go back to Santa Monica for the winter breaks like he had throughout his time at Princeton. 

Nudging his glasses, he looked at what was left that fit the criteria of 1. having accepted him, 2. not too cold, and 3.  _ not _ in California. The three that remained were Vanderbilt, Duke, and UTA.

Going back to the counter to pour himself another glass, he placed all the others into the drawer and swiveled back to face the table deliberately.

They were all good schools, he told himself as he slowly made his way across the kitchen tiles. All  _ great _ schools. He couldn’t go wrong. He would get an incredible education at any of the three. He would be challenged. He would learn. He would have a prestigious, admirable degree. He would be well-prepared.

Without meaning to, he did the math in his head. Vanderbilt was over nine hours away from D.C., Duke was a little over four, and Austin had to be at least a day by car. 

Duke was, without a doubt, considered the best of the three. That was probably why it felt right. Not because it was only half as far away as the second closest. It was better. It was a great law school, constantly showing up on top ten lists of the best law schools in the country. 

He had liked Durham, he remembered, taking another swig of wine. He had liked North Carolina. And Duke had a beautiful campus with gorgeous grounds and a Gothic chapel that looked like it had been plucked out of the French city somewhere. It was situated happily only a short excursion from either great beaches or glorious mountain trails. He could see himself at Duke. 

The bedroom door opening startled him back to the room, and he looked up to see Josh shuffling into the kitchen, his hair tousled violently in the back from sex, and softly in the front from sleep. He’d thrown on a Princeton t-shirt of Sam’s that hugged his arms and his ribs in a way that was positively delectable. Even in a sleepy waddle, Josh could get Sam’s heart turning somersaults.

“What’s the matter, Sammy?” he croaked, blinking his eyes against the soft kitchen light that splashed his skin. “Woke up and you were gone.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sam replied affectionately as Josh rolled the heels of his palms against his eyes. 

“Thought the spiders got you.” Sam chuckled lightly at this, and Josh ran his hand through his hair, raising his eyebrows and asking, “You okay?” Sam nodded. “You gonna come back to bed?”

“In a minute,” Sam promised, “You go back to sleep, I’ll be right there.”

Josh just nodded and made a bleary little mumbling noise in agreement while he started to go back. Before he could disappear into the darkened bedroom, Sam called, “I love you, Joshua.”

A flushed, warmed little smile crossed Josh’s face as he turned back to face Sam. Every now and then, they’d catch each other off guard. Josh came silently back into the room and, with a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder, placed the most tender of kisses on his forehead and said in an almost reverent way, “I love you, too, Sam. So much.” 

Sam shifted to cover Josh’s hand with his own, letting his eyes flutter shut for a brief moment as he tipped his head into Josh’s chest. When he opened them, he saw Josh squinting through sleepiness at the papers in front of him.

With a little swallow, Sam said, “I’m going to Duke.” 

Josh blinked a few times before nodding and kissing his head again, obviously too tired to process the conversation, offering “Duke’s a great school,” through a yawn.

“Go back to bed, sleepyhead,” Sam nudged him, “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Mmm hmm,” Josh’s eyes were practically closed as be made his way to the bedroom, closing the door behind him this time, and throwing a half-asleep, “Love you,” over his shoulder.

Sam finished his wine and cleaned up his glass and made his way back to the bedroom to brush his teeth. When he flicked the light on in the bathroom, he noticed that Josh was looking at him. Looking up with wide eyes. Sam jerked in surprise for a second, not only because of Josh’s intense gaze, but because Josh usually fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Even faster when he was falling  _ back _ asleep.

“Hey!” Sam smiled.

“Hey,” Josh replied. They held eye contact for a few sleepy breaths, before Josh said quietly, “So, Duke, huh?”

_ There it is.  _

Sam nodded a little.

“That’s…” Josh gave one of his swallows, “Exciting!”

“Yeah!” Sam agreed as he fumbled with his toothpaste.

“What, uh…?” Josh asked rolling a little onto his back with a stretch, and then tipping to look back at Sam, an eye twisting like he was staring into the sun, “Why Duke?”

“It’s a great school!” Sam echoed Josh’s earlier sentiment, scrubbing his toothbrush quickly over his teeth, “The faculty is… legendary. And their emphasis on professional development is…”

“Yeah, it’s a great school,” Josh said again. 

“Plus, Duke is…” Sam started to say,  _ not that far from here. _

But Josh cut him off saying, with a poorly concealed scoff, “In  _ North Carolina.” _

“Josh?” Sam said over the faucet, “Your New England elitism is showing.” 

Josh snorted and closed his eyes, rolling back over, saying, “We’ll celebrate with a drink after work tomorrow, okay?”

“Sounds good, baby,” Sam said softly. He turned off the bathroom light and crossed back to the kitchen, scruffing Josh’s curls on the way out. Now that he’d made up his mind, he couldn’t rest.

As he filled out the letter to secure his spot, he knew he was picking Duke University School of Law for a lot of reasons: the renowned academics, the weather, the ability to start over away from his parents. But the most important reason was bundled up in his bed, waiting for him to wrap around him. No use even kidding himself. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we have a posting schedule. i swear we do. its all nice and typed up in its own little google doc for our reference. its been done for longer than this fic has, actually. its open on my computer. i check it from time to time. and yet. i dont remember the last time i actually posted a chapter on the day it was supposed to be posted. because time has no meaning. so enjoy this two of us tuesday on a thursday (or friday, by the time this is actually posted. idk im trying okay?)

**JOSH**

Thus began what Josh tried not to think of as the beginning of the end.

Until Sam had signed the form and sent it in, Josh had been able to convince himself that it wasn’t going to happen. Sam hadn’t even brought it up until weeks after Josh saw the letters. Maybe he had decided not to go this year after all. Maybe he didn’t like the schools he had applied to. Maybe he had changed his mind. 

But when he had woken up in the middle of the night to find Sam hunched over the kitchen table, poring over the paper Josh had hoped would disappear, that was it. Sam’s declaration of  _ I’m going to Duke _ only confirmed what he had already known, and Josh found himself calculating how many days they had left until Sam would have to go.

See the thing was, Josh was in love. And he had thought Sam was in love with him too. He was nearly certain of that, actually, because Sam said it all the time, and Josh believed him. He just didn’t believe that that was enough. Sam had dreams, big dreams, and Josh refused to be the person to hold him back from that. If Sam needed to go…Josh had no choice but to let him, did he? More than anything, he wanted Sam to be happy. Ideally, he would be the one making Sam happy, but if he wasn’t enough, then he wanted Sam to move on. Sam deserved that.

Josh tried not to take it personally, but it was hard not to equate Sam leaving with Sam leaving him.

His first instinct was to pull away. He had done it before, a couple times, in fact. Distance was Josh’s way to protect himself when he thought he would get hurt. And losing Sam was a pain he didn’t know how to deal with.

But he knew that running away now would just be speeding up the inevitable. He loved Sam, loved every minute they spent together, and as long as Sam was here, he intended to spend as much time as possible with the other man while he could. He wouldn’t make Sam worry, or feel guilty. It was Sam’s decision. So he put on his most supportive, happy smile, and tried to act like his heart wasn’t being ripped from his chest.

It also got him thinking about what his next step would be. A year ago, Josh’s career had been the first and only focus in his life. Everything he did, and every free moment he had, had been devoted to getting ahead. He wanted—needed—to be good at what he did. To move up. But lately…the long nights he used to spend at his tiny corner desk were now spent cuddled on Sam’s couch and Josh didn’t know how he could possibly go back from that.

His goals hadn’t exactly changed—he still had ambitions of working in the White House one day—but Josh realized that his life no longer revolved around his job. Sam gave him balance, showed him how to live  _ now _ , not just go barreling towards  _ next _ . Sam was the first person who had ever made his  _ now _ something worth living in. He needed Sam for that. He needed Sam to keep him grounded. Already he could feel his thoughts creeping towards  _ what’s next _ , now that the trickle of uncertainty had turned into an entire flood. He had hoped Sam would be next. He had hoped Sam might be forever. But it was time to make contingency plans.

It was an election year, and if Josh wanted to look for a new job, a better job, that time was now. He couldn’t afford to spend the rest of the summer pining away for what he was about to lose, he was a grown up. He had things to do, and he had a life beyond Sam. At least, he had had a life before Sam. 

So he spent his breaks during the day polishing his resume, keeping an ear to the ground for any senior staff positions that were opening up, any senior campaign positions that needed to be filled, anything to take his mind off of the fact that Sam was leaving.

It didn’t work. Of course it didn’t. Everything he did was, in some way, because of Sam. It was impossible to escape the impact the other man had on his life, even as he was preparing to pack up his apartment and move over four hours away, possibly for good.

“I’m not dying, I’m just going to law school,” Sam teased, poking at Josh’s subconscious scowl while they watched TV one evening. He hadn’t even been aware he was doing it until Sam pointed it out, but it was much harder to feel at peace when he knew his peace would soon be interrupted. He couldn’t  _ totally  _ live in the present.

“Same thing,” Josh grumbled.

“You survived, I will too,” Sam reminded him, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of his face. “Besides, you’re just gonna have to visit me and make sure I don’t die. It’s only fair, after all this time I’ve been keeping you alive.”

Josh forced his mouth into a small smile and huffed a laugh. “You don’t need me, Sam. You’ll be fine. You’ll be  _ great _ .”

Sam looked at him in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. “Of course I need you. I always need you.”

Josh offered another weak smile and curled further into Sam’s side. Sure he said that  _ now _ , but what about once he got down to school? He would have his own life there, he would meet people…god, the thought of Sam meeting someone else made him sick to his stomach. But it was inevitable, wasn’t it? Sam was gorgeous, and friendly, and smart, and everything that anyone could want in a partner. He was all too aware that he wasn’t Sam’s first—and usually that was perfectly okay with him! But Sam was the only person he could ever see himself with; it was too easy to see Sam with someone else.

He tightened his grip on Sam’s hand that he was holding, and was temporarily placated by Sam’s arms tightening around him too. He wasn’t possessive, and he knew it wasn’t fair to start now. Law school had honestly been an amazing experience for him, and Sam deserved that chance too, without worrying about Josh being needy from another city.

Sam shouldn’t have to worry about him at all, really. Josh was an adult, he could take care of himself. Josh would  _ not _ hold Sam back from living his life. They were just…

Josh came to the realization that they had never actually defined what they were. What they wanted from each other. Four months in, and Josh wondered if he had been reading this whole thing wrong. Was it possible Sam had never meant for this to last long-term? Josh had been hoping for forever, but what if Sam didn’t want that? He had never…they never  _ said _ . Hell, they had never even used the word  _ boyfriend _ . They were serious about each other now, but that didn’t mean Sam intended this to be more than a serious fling. 

Josh felt himself flush in embarrassment. Had he really been that dense that he’d missed it all? Thinking over their months together, Josh really couldn’t identify anything that would make him doubt Sam’s commitment to him, but then again, until mid-January Josh hadn’t picked up on any signals that Sam was into him in the first place. He must not be as good at reading Sam as he had thought. Maybe it had always been wishful thinking on his part?

“Sweetheart,” Sam mumbled, lips close to his ear. “Come back to me please? I don’t know where you are, but it’s not here.” Josh sighed and blinked quickly. “Josh?”

“Hmmm?”

Sam ran a thumb down the side of his face. “You okay?”

Josh schooled his face into a smile, and tried to make this one believable. “Perfect, baby,” he replied. “You?”

Sam giggled. “Just peachy, love,” he replied fondly. “But do you want to stop changing the subject maybe? If this is about me going away…”

“No,” Josh interrupted quickly. Sam shouldn’t have to worry about him. He didn’t need Sam worrying about him. “I’m…I’m fine, Sammy, okay? I really am.” Sam gave him a look. “I am! I’m just…dunno. Got a lot on my plate right now, ‘s all.”

“Anything you want to talk to me about?” Sam tried. Josh shook his head.

That was the other thing. Josh hadn’t told Sam that he was looking for other jobs. He wasn’t sure why, to be honest. It wasn’t like it was some huge secret, and with the number of people he had already talked to about it Josh wouldn’t be surprised if the information made it back to Sam soon anyways. It was just…Sam was going through a big change of his own. And if he thought Josh was unhappy with his job he would try to make it better, and Josh  _ didn’t want him to worry about that _ . Josh didn’t need help. He was okay before Sam came along, and he could be fine again. He needed to prove—to himself, if nothing else—that he could do  _ something _ without Sam.

“Just the usual,” he lied instead. “Stuff to finish up before everyone goes home for the holiday. You know how it is.”

“Right,” Sam replied slowly, like he didn’t quite believe Josh but couldn’t figure out why. So he changed the topic instead. “Are you going home for Memorial Day?”

Josh actually…hadn’t even thought about that. He hadn’t seen his parents since Thanksgiving, which wasn’t an  _ unacceptably _ long time, but he had done a pretty rotten job of staying in touch with them recently too. His mom had written him a couple letters that had gone unanswered, and he was lucky if he had the chance to call them even once a month. He had been busy before, but now he had Sam too. And he wasn’t hiding Sam from his parents, but he certainly wasn’t ready to go parading him around.

So he just shrugged.

“Haven’t decided yet,” he answered truthfully. “We usually do some sort of cookout for these summer holidays, and I’m sure they’d love to see me—”

“And you’d love to see them,” Sam added. Josh glared, but the other man wasn’t exactly wrong. He had been close with his parents when he was younger, a result of unfortunate circumstances. Usually when people found out that Josh had lost his sister at a young age, they expected Josh’s parents to compensate by being particularly protective of him. That had never been the case. Instead of channeling their grief into keeping Josh as close to them as possible, they channeled it into making sure Josh was the best person he could be. It wasn’t until he got older that Josh realized just how well his parents had coped with Joanie’s death. Josh himself hadn’t coped as well, and without his parents’ support he doubted he’d have ever moved past it. 

Dealing with emotions had never been Josh’s strong suit. He tended to bottle things up for as long as he could, until everything exploded over at once. Just like how Sam reigned him in now, his parents had reigned him in during his early teen years when he was prone to emotional outbursts, and never once had they lost their patience with him, and he was eternally grateful to them for it. They had been his primary support system for as long as he could remember. They had been on the receiving end of many a phone call during stressful weeks when he was in undergrad, and Josh had intentionally picked a law school where he could drive home whenever he needed. For him to go almost six months with hardly any communication was unheard of. Of course he missed them. Of course he wanted to see them.

But the six months hadn’t exactly been an accident. His parents were Democrats, and they were fairly open-minded people, but Josh knew it was always a little different when it was personal. He had no idea how he could possibly come out to his parents, but he also had no idea how he could possibly  _ not _ . Sam had been the biggest part of his life those past six months. Any conversation he had about his life would have to include Sam, and Josh, well, Josh had always had a pretty bad poker face. There was no way he could talk about Sam without making it glaringly obvious that he was in love with him. And Josh just didn’t think he was ready for that.

Or he hadn’t been. And now seemed like such an awful time to do it, because Sam was leaving so what did it even matter? He could hold off a few more months and it would be like this last year never even happened. To Josh’s parents, Sam would forever be “that boy Josh used to work with” and no more. Josh could hold the other part of Sam—his part of Sam—close, where only he could see it.

The thought of his parents never knowing Sam, though…Sam was so much more than just someone he worked with. Sam was more than just his best friend. Sam was…Sam was his person. In every way. And Josh had no doubt his parents would love Sam as much as he did. Josh couldn’t deprive them of that. 

Images of Sam’s face when he had told Josh about coming out to his own parents flashed through his mind.

More importantly, Josh couldn’t deprive  _ Sam _ of the opportunity to come out to a family that loved and accepted him. Because at the end of the day, Josh knew his parents would love him unconditionally. They might be surprised, or unsure how to react, but they would never give him anything but their full support. They wouldn’t be like Sam’s parents. They could do this.

And so no matter how insane it felt to be taking such a step when Sam had literally started putting his things into boxes, Josh responded to Sam by saying, “Come with me.” 

Sam gave him a soft smile like he knew every thought that had passed through Josh’s mind to get to that point—Josh wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he had—and nodded. “I would…really love that,” he responded. “Do you mean like…come  _ with _ you?” His blue eyes searched Josh’s, uncertainty and hope, and Josh thought his heart might beat out of his chest.

“Come  _ with _ me,” he repeated, kissing the tip of Sam’s nose. “I…I want them to love you as much as I do. Because I know they will. I want them to meet you.”

Sam’s smile morphed into a blinding grin and Josh just had to kiss him again. His stomach exploded with butterflies, excited and anxious all at once. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine doing this, and he felt absolutely insane for doing it now, but he wanted to do this. He was done being scared.

One last act of bravery with Sam by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic could probably be titled josh is Going Through It bc i like messing with him. hes also dramatic as fuck so like its not my fault. anyways as always let us know what you think!


	23. Chapter 23

**SAM**

Josh overslept on the morning that they were set to head up to Connecticut. Sam shook him off the pillows and he scrambled to get dressed while Sam put together a canvas bag of snacks and a stack of cassette tapes to listen to on the drive. From the passenger seat, Sam watched Josh— soft and scruffy in a grey-shirt and flannel hastily tossed on—driving with his eyes focused on the road as Sam looked at maps unfolded in his lap for shortcuts. The plan had been to take the driving in two-hour shifts, but Josh started talking through yawns, so Sam took over once they made it out of the city. Sam liked driving. It wasn’t one of his better skills. He hadn’t really grown up driving, and he hadn’t driven much since coming to D.C. But during undergrad, on breaks that were long enough to not need to stay on campus but short enough to not warrant a plane ticket back to Santa Monica, he would often take a rental car down the coast without much of a particular objective in mind besides finding a hotel where he should spend some time on the beach. The beaches on the East Coast were nothing like the beaches back home. They were smaller, the water was less clear, and they were not maintained as well. But he had found spots in North and South Carolina that scratched the itch for sand beneath his toes and the sun and the salt. That may have been part of the reason he had been drawn to Duke. He already had memories in North Carolina. A few times he’d considered asking a friend to come with him, but he rarely retained a close friendship for any one person to make sense to ask by the time those openings came around. So most of his driving he’d done by himself, taking scenic routes to see as much of the coast as he could. 

So it felt a little different, driving up to Connecticut on the interstate with Josh dozing in and out of sleep curled in the passenger seat, the cassette tapes of Tom Petty, The Proclaimers, Bob Dylan, and Wings playing softly. But Sam liked it. He liked Josh’s reassuring presence by his side. Particularly the first half of the drive, which was one he’d done before. And the closer he got to New Jersey, the more muscle memory took over. The stretches of road were so familiar that he almost forgot he wasn’t just headed back to campus until Josh, half-awake, muttered his confusion as to why Sam was starting to take an exit. 

The realization did not come in time for him to correct the mistake, so they ended up getting some kind of late breakfast-- or early lunch depending on which of the two you asked-- just outside Princeton before hitting the road again, Josh taking over for the last half of the trip. 

Once they were North of Sam’s old stomping grounds, the roads were no longer roads he’d been on, and the scenery was unfamiliar. He’d been to New England a few times on family trips, but they’d flown in and pretty much stayed in the confines of whatever lake house or cottage in the woods his family was living out of for the week. He found himself eagerly pointing at gorgeous groves of trees, little old barns, patches of wildflowers on the side of the road, and houses with brick and stone chimneys. Josh rolled his eyes, and would say things like, “That would be like me pointing out palm trees to you.” But all the same, Sam saw Josh begin to notice the scenery more and more.

At the same time, the closer they got to his parents, the quieter Josh got. Sam didn’t pay it much mind. He knew that he always had to brace himself mentally for extended stays around family. Though now, he wasn’t sure if that would ever happen again. Josh kept looking like he was about to speak, but then would just close his mouth, or drop his eyebrows and focus on his driving. 

When they got into Westport, Josh was almost completely silent. Sam had expected him to point out things from his childhood, for his face to light up when he saw street corners associated with childhood memories. He knew that Josh was close to his family and had chosen Yale specifically to live nearby. But Josh was stone-faced as they pulled into the driveway of his parents’ townhouse. 

“Gotta tell you, babe,” Sam smiled looking at the brick house with pots of petunias and a great big American flag flapping across a bright red door, “This is exactly what I pictured.” He went to swing the door open and started to get out, but was startled by Josh’s lack of movement. He let the door slam back and looked over at Josh, who was sitting with his elbow propped on the window with his hands scratching across his scruff, brow furrowed. 

“Josh?” Sam asked softly.

With a sharp exhale, Josh said abruptly, “I had a big sister who died in a fire when I was nine.”

For a second, Sam was sure he hadn’t heard Josh right. He blinked and tried to figure out what to say. Opening and closing his mouth, he finally settled on the ever-articulate, “Wait, what?”

And then Josh was talking about a popcorn maker, how the two of them had been alone in the house, and how it happened so fast… 

“Anyway, you’re gonna see pictures of her, and they’re gonna talk about her, and sometimes Dad still gets choked up when they talk about her, so I wanted you to be prepared for that,” Josh finished. Now he moved to open his door, the look on his face gone casual as if he’d just warned Sam that the shower had dull water pressure or that his parents didn’t keep the AC high enough.

“Josh!” Sam said, putting his hand on Josh’s thigh.

Josh turned back, eyes wide, clearly wanting so bad for Sam to not say anything else about it on the surface. But they’d been dating long enough now for Sam to know that what Josh showed on the surface often didn’t line up with what was bubbling underneath. 

“Baby, I can't... that must have been so hard... I can't even imagine,” Sam said softly. Josh only managed to swallow in response, so Sam added, “If you ever want to talk about it…I’m here, you know that, right?”

Josh just nodded and put his thumb and forefinger to the corners of his eyes, pressing there for a few deep breaths before saying, “Okay, let’s get this over with,” and hopping out of the car. 

It took a second for Sam to shake the shock out of his face and get out of the car and grab their suitcases as the Lymans came bounding out the front door, wrapping Josh in hugs. As Sam shuffled up the little stone path, he heard Josh’s dad—a tall, clean-shaven guy with salt and pepper hair and in a Mets t-shirt— saying, “You got something on your face there, son,” referring to Josh’s stubble. And then he heard Josh’s mother— short and plump with brown eyes as big and sparkly as Josh’s and her hair up in a messy bun—crying in a thick, teasing Brooklyn accent, “Joshua Lyman, go help with the suitcases. Who raised you?”

Josh turned around and beamed at Sam sheepishly, coming to take his case, visibly refraining from placing a kiss on Sam’s cheek. When they got back up to the little porch, Sam was immediately smothered in hugs and kisses from Josh’s mom who crooned, “Aren’t you a pretty one?” and started straightening his hair. From behind his glasses, Sam blinked, taken aback by the unexpected intimacy. Josh gave him a chagrined expression from behind his mother’s shoulder, but Sam didn’t really mind. 

Josh’s dad introduced himself as Noah, complimented Sam’s firm handshake, and asked if he smoked. Sam told him he did not, to which Noah responded, “Right answer” as he lit himself a cigarette. 

Sam followed them into the house, which was slightly smokey from tobacco and marvelously messy and crazily colorful and covered in pictures. Everything looked a little homemade. Nothing matched. Josh and his parents talking all at once, over each other, answering questions and asking them at the same time. 

“I’m making my famous baked Alaska,” Josh’s mom called from the kitchen.

“No one likes baked Alaska, Tildy,” Noah called, settling into a chair that looked like it was specifically designed to be a dad’s easy chair. 

“I like your baked Alaska, ma,” Josh called making his way up the stairs with the cases. 

“It’s an absurd dessert,” Noah muttered. 

Sam found himself gazing at the collection of picture frames on top of the upright piano. Josh in caps and gowns. Josh in little league gear. Josh and Noah and Matilda dressed up with a girl with messy brown curls and a violin in crinoline. The girl with messy brown curls in a pair of overalls and a basket of strawberries, red juice around her lips. The girl with messy brown curls in a yellow smock and little white Mary Janes holding the bundle of her baby brother with a huge, awe-struck smile. He was so distracted looking at the pictures, he barely registered when Josh came flopping back down the stairs in his sock feet, the sleeves of his flannel rolled up to his elbows. Sam swallowed a little, looking at him in all his effortless rough-around-the-edges sexiness that just seemed to roll off him. Sam closed his mouth before he realized it had fallen open. Josh gave him a little glare, leaning up against the doorway. Noah was already lost in a newspaper, so he didn’t notice their knowing looks.

“Who wants hors d'oeuvres?” Matilda pronounced “hors d'oeuvres” phonetically in a corny fake French accent, emerging from the kitchen with a tray of finger foods, little pastries full of cheese and spinach. Sam took one with two fingers and popped it in his mouth as Matilda placed the tray on the little rickety coffee table before she fell back comfortably onto the big, green, corduroy sofa. 

“These are delicious!” Sam exclaimed through his chews, “Thank you very much, Mrs. Lyman.”

“My husband made them,” she gestured towards Noah, “He’s got the baking bug. I don’t know my way around pastry.” 

“Ma has to buy those pre-made pie crusts,” Josh chimed in.

“And yet she has a famous baked Alaska,” Noah muttered from behind his paper. 

“I make up for my lack of pastry expertise with my lasagna,” Matilda said.

“You making lasagna, ma?” Josh asked rubbing his hands together.

“Only if you’re good,” she shot in his direction. She turned her face back towards Sam who was wiping flakes of pastry off his face, “Sam, let Joshua take your suitcase upstairs for you.”

“I can do it!” Sam said. 

“The guest bedroom is the second door on the left,” Matilda said, waving a hand towards the staircase and reaching for a bright blue ball of yarn and wooden needles poking out in different directions. 

Now Sam and Josh gave each other the kind of look that was so palpable that no doubt even Noah could feel it from behind the pages of his newspaper. 

They hadn’t discussed how they would bring it up. Not in detail. Josh had simply said he would wait for the right moment, sit them down, and just simply explain. Now that Sam had been inside the Lymans' frenetic energy, he wondered how Josh had imagined he'd be able to find a quiet moment. But Josh had never told Sam what he’d say. The only thing he’d said was that he wanted Sam to be there. 

“Uh, Ma, Sam’s gonna sleep in my room,” Josh managed, not breaking eye contact with Sam. 

“Joshua, the guest bed is so much more comfortable.” Matilda said, “Let your guest have the more comfortable bed.”

“Well, thanks for that, Ma, but Sam and I are gonna sleep in my room,” Josh said, a tiny quiver revealing the fact that the coolness of his voice was all an illusion.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Joshua,” Matilda’s needles clicked, “Just take the suitcase up for him?”

“Tildy, you’re mighty thick for a Rhodes Scholar,” Noah said flatly flipping a page.

Sam felt himself go pink to the tips of his ears, and Josh bit his lip, flicking his eyes up to the ceiling. Noah just kept reading with a sneaky smile while Matilda’s face went through about five different realizations before she finally grinned and nodded with a little look on her face like _ that explains a lot. _

“Alright,” she said, picking her knitting up and down “Alright, well, as long as you’re under this roof, you keep four on the floor.” 

Now, Josh slapped both hands across his face, and Sam and Noah started laughing. "I don't care how old you are," Matilda continued. 

Sam went upstairs with the case and a spring in his step, hearing their stage-whispers behind his back; Josh’s mother saying, “Well, you snagged yourself quite a looker,” and Josh’s indignant, “Ma!” and Noah’s “I told you, so Tildy, didn’t I always tell you so?” followed by Josh’s embarrassed, _ “Dad!” _

Josh’s bedroom was a strange hodgepodge of a little boy’s room and a law student's pad: baseball everything on the all the walls besides the one with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, old campaign signs and stickers in the free spots on the wall, a thick red and blue plaid comforter on a double bed with navy blue sheets covered in stars and moons and planets. The desk was stacked with legal textbooks and messy piles of papers. On the bedside table was another picture of his sister. The two of them together. Messy brown curls and dimples all around. Big smiles with missing teeth. 

Scanning the room, he couldn’t stop picturing shadows of Josh at all different ages. Playing with baseball cards on the floor at ten. Making Carter/Mondale signs on construction paper as a teenager. Trying to kiss girls in his bed in high school. Never quite figuring out why it didn’t feel good. Then again in his twenties, stressed and hunched over his desk on weekends back from Yale. He could see all these different iterations of Josh so vividly that it took him a second to figure out when Josh was in the flesh standing at the doorway. 

“Hey,” Josh said with a little blush, “Sorry that was… not exactly what I expected to happen. You okay?”

“I’m great!” Sam smiled, moving to wrap him in a hug. Josh let his forehead drop to Sam’s shoulder as he took a few deep breaths. “Your parents are…” he started, and Josh said, “A lot” at the same time Sam said, “Amazing.” 

They rested and changed out of the clothes they’d been sweating through in the car, all the while Sam looked at the picture of Josh and his sister. He’d nudge Josh quietly trying to get him to talk about what happened. To open up what he went through. But Josh dodged it every time. 

Dinner was loud and delicious and everyone talked over each other, except for Sam who just sat back and tried to keep up. Josh kept his hand firmly on his thigh for the whole meal which made him feel completely grounded that this was reality. That this home, that this family, that these people were reality. That the wicked banter that was so obviously an expression of affection that poured out of every inch of the house was real and not just a fantasy of a close and comfortable family he’d imagined himself a part of from a sitcom. 

Sam didn’t think this was normal. But then he wondered if maybe this was normal and his family just wasn’t normal. Did most families swear and tease and debate politics in lively sparring over dinner? Or did most families go around the table sharing facts about their day in a structured fashion only to be criticized by their fathers for how they spent their time? Why did this unbelievable blur of sitcom-paced humor feel more like a real family?

Noah fell asleep in his chair, and Matilda chattered away about the book she was reading and how it wasn’t as good as the original French while she kept at her knitting with the blue yarn and the crazy needles. Josh fucked around on the piano, not really playing a complete song, but playing more than Sam would ever have known Josh could play, all while Sam curled on the couch and took it in. Right about when Matilda got to explaining to Sam that Josh didn't shave just because she knew she didn’t like his beard, Josh started yawning again. Matilda sent them upstairs with tea. 

Sitting on the counter while Josh shaved, Sam—clad in Josh’s pajamas—asked quietly, “So tell me what your sister was like?” 

Knocking his razor against the sink before returning it to his cheeks, Josh said, “Joanie. She was... sweet.” He scraped a line through the shaving cream saying, “She was smart and serious. Focused.” He furrowed his brow as if emulating her. She always had music playing. She had this look she got… like she was composing symphonies in her head. The house got… after she died the house was just quiet all the time. There was never any music playing anymore.” 

Then Josh went quiet. 

“She always had music playing.” 

Sam hopped down and hugged him from behind as he shaved the top of his lip. 

“What else did she do?” Sam whispered in his ear as lovingly as he could muster. 

They stayed up all night long talking about Joanie. Memories of the strawberry patch. The games she used to play. How she was sad sometimes. How brave she was that last day. 

And it was like the last little piece of Josh that Sam hadn’t ever been able to pin down was falling into place. And it was like the fact that Sam just let him talk, their fingers intertwined over his outer space sheets, it was like the fact that Sam was letting him talk was sliding the last pieces that Josh needed, too. And it was like they were both home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna say it. This chapter is one of my favorites. I love it. I loved writing it. I loved planning it with SM. I hope you loved reading it.  
-LP


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i know its late again but time has no meaning and i got animal crossing which means i havent done anything else in almost a week I Am Trying My Best Here Okay

**JOSH**

Josh had a love-hate relationship with the yearly Memorial Day cookout. On the one hand, good food, quality time with his family, and a chance to see people he didn’t get to see much once he moved away. On the other hand, lots of people asking him what he’s up to in life, no one else his age, and by about seven o’clock Josh was usually completely drained but still had almost three hours of socializing to go.

It was a lot.

This year he felt…even more mixed, if that was possible. Sam would be there, which made everything more bearable, but Josh had already doubled the number of people who knew he was gay this weekend and wasn’t sure he was comfortable adding to that total. So Sam might be there, but he wouldn’t be _ there _. He would just be Josh’s friend from Washington. They could look, but they couldn’t touch.

It shouldn’t bother Josh as much as it did. After all, it had been entirely his own decision. After coming out to his parents, they had been more than accepting, and had made sure he knew that if he wanted to introduce Sam as his boyfriend to their extended family and friends, they would support him. Sam had also made it clear that he was in for whatever Josh was comfortable with.

This far from Washington, Josh didn’t really care what people thought of him. Well, he cared, but he was less concerned with potentially ruining his career by being in a relationship with a man. No one his parents knew would care. It just…felt dishonest. 

Because next time he was home Sam would be gone and Josh would have to explain to everyone what happened—that he had already _ known _—and he couldn’t do that. It would hurt enough without having to relive it. So as much as he wanted nothing more than to tuck his head over Sam’s shoulder while his Uncle Mike grilled the other man about a Supreme Court case that Josh had honestly forgotten about, he kept his distance. 

His mom cornered him in the kitchen shortly before the hotdogs came off the grill.

“You don’t have to keep looking at him like that, sweetie.” She pretended to be casual, checking the fridge for the dessert they would have later, but Josh could see her watching him from the corner of her eye.

“Don’t know what you mean,” he replied, distracting himself by refilling his glass of water.

“You don’t have to avoid him all evening. People aren’t going to figure it out just from you standing next to him.” Josh didn’t think that was true.

“Dad figured it out before you ever met him,” Josh reminded her.

“Joshua, there’s a better chance that your wistful looks from across the patio will give you away than just talking to him will.” That was…fair. Josh just wasn’t sure what to do with himself, was the thing. At work it was different, because they had to remain professional. Josh could do professional. But their downtime was _ theirs _. This was some weird middle ground where he had to act relaxed but still pretend that Sam hadn’t given him an orgasm in the shower just this morning while Josh’s parents were at the store.

It had been awhile since Josh had mixed his personal life with the closet. (It had been awhile since his personal life had consisted of anyone other than Sam.)

He had to remind himself that this was his own idea, he had no one to blame but himself.

He did sit next to Sam while they ate, though, and tried not to blush when Sam—_ very intentionally _—pressed their legs together. Asshole.

Later, after everyone had eaten their fill of hotdogs and hamburgers and strawberry shortcake and s’mores that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, Josh pulled Sam back inside the house with a meaningful look that he hoped told Sam not to ask questions. He looked confused but followed Josh to the kitchen, where Josh pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and nodded towards the front of the house.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked, and Sam’s face lit up.

“More than anything.”

\--

About half an hour later, armed with the bottle of wine and an old blanket that Josh had fished from the garage, the two of them made it to the gated entrance of Sherwood Island.

“Looks like it’s closed,” Sam pointed out, but Josh just laughed and turned off the road a ways, walking to the edge of the gate and sliding between it at the guardrail.

“You coming?” Josh asked, holding a hand out for Sam to follow him, but the other man still looked terrified. 

“Josh this is…this is definitely illegal,” Sam hesitated, looking from left to right as though someone would jump out and arrest them at any moment.

“Relax, baby, I used to do this all the time!” Josh encouraged. “C’mon, it’s totally worth it once you get over here. Really romantic.” He gave a soft smile that he _ knew _ Sam couldn’t resist, and sure enough, the other man sighed and gingerly squeezed himself through the same gap Josh had used. His shirt rode up a bit as he stretched, and Josh had to keep himself from drooling. 

As soon as he was by Josh’s side again, Sam looked back quickly over his shoulder to make sure no one was there. They were completely alone, and Josh proved it to him by placing a hand on the back of Sam’s neck and pulling him into a kiss. 

“Okay?” he asked when they pulled apart. Sam looked like he wanted to protest more, but he just gave a dazed nod, and looked back where they came from one more time before taking Josh’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Let’s go, I guess,” he agreed warily.

Josh huffed out a laugh and tugged him in the direction of the shore, pace picking up the closer they got. He felt the tension ease out of Sam with every step they took, and Josh thought back to the first time he had done this.

He had been sixteen and trying desperately to fit in with his friends in school, so when Nathan Lubbock had gotten a case of beer from his brother and told Josh where they were meeting, Josh had told his parents he was going to bed early and snuck out the bedroom window. His heart had been in his throat the entire way, the slightest sound making him jump as he sprinted through the streets. He couldn’t let his friends see his worry, though. They were already much cooler than him, he didn’t need to give them anything else to make fun of him for. 

The sea at night, though, had been more than worth it. It had been a clear July evening, just past dusk, and the moon had made the water in front of them shimmer. Josh had had his first taste of alcohol that night, and then had thrown up in the bushes on the way home. The rush…it had been incredible.

Josh never knew if his parents had found out about that night, or any of the other nights he had stolen down here after dark. If they did, they never said anything, and honestly Josh figured they were just so glad for him to be spending time with people his own age they weren’t about to stop him. 

The first glance of the moonlit sound never failed to leave him just a bit breathless, no matter how many times he had been here. He led them off the road, towards his favorite stretch. It was a bit darker under the cover of the trees, but Josh knew the way by heart and didn’t slow his pace at all, while Sam hustled to keep up.

“Why are we…baby, slow down!” Sam tugged backwards on the hand that was still holding his, but Josh just pulled back and kept onward. They were so close now. “Josh, I’m…”

The look on Sam’s face when they finally broke through the trees and onto the rocky, empty beach was priceless. He halted in his tracks and Josh slowed down with him, turning around to watch Sam watch the water. Sam had seen beaches before; he had grown up in southern California and used to spend weekends driving from Princeton down to the Carolinas to get his fix. But this was a completely different type of beach and Josh tried to see it through his eyes. The smooth sand was replaced by expanses of grass leading up to a jagged edge, and finally a strip of rocky sand before the still waters. 

There were no waves in here, not like Sam was used to, probably. It was less of a beach for swimming than it was a park for Saturday afternoon picnics and kite flying and walks. Or for wannabe-rebellious teenagers looking for somewhere to be _ theirs _. Or for stupid, in love D.C. staffers trying to savor every last second of each other’s presence.

“Josh,” Sam breathed, so quiet, reverent, as though speaking at full volume might disrupt the peacefulness of the night.

“Okay?” Josh replied, just as softly. 

“Josh, this is…” he blinked a couple times. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because I wanted to go somewhere private, where we could have our own time, just us,” Josh explained. “And because I’ve never kissed anyone under the stars before.”

Sam changed that instant, pulling Josh into his chest and wrapping both arms around his neck to kiss him hard. Josh rested his free hand—the one not holding the blanket and wine—on Sam’s hip and kissed back.

They rested their foreheads together and Josh swallowed against an emotional lump in his throat. Sam was, without question, the most perfect human Josh had ever met, and right now all Josh could see was his bright blue eyes, filled with so much love directed at _ him _, and it was…it was a lot. He needed to soak it up.

“You mean like that?” Sam grinned. Josh nodded, slightly dizzy and completely breathless.

He led Sam a little further down, to the ledge of rocks, and spread the blanket just enough for the two of them to lie down close together. Josh sat down and Sam immediately molded himself against his side, pulling Josh down so that his head rested on Sam’s chest, the two of them propped against the rocks.

Josh went to open the bottle of wine. “I…shit, I didn’t bring a bottle opener,” he admitted.

“Lemme see that,” Sam offered, taking the bottle from him and pulling some sort of pocket-knife contraption from his pocket. One of the attachments just so happened to be a corkscrew and Josh let out a surprised little laugh.

“Are you _ serious _?” he asked, while Sam finally got the cork out.

“Came in handy, didn’t it?” he shrugged, rewarding himself with the first drink.

“God, you are such a dork,” Josh shook his head fondly, grabbing the bottle from Sam’s hand and taking a gulp himself.

They ended up kicking their shoes off after a few minutes so they could twine their legs together, despite the rocks poking at their soles. Every so often Sam would press a kiss to the side of his head as they passed the bottle, and every time Josh absolutely melted. He wasn’t a lightweight—he _ wasn’t _—but by the time they got halfway through the bottle Josh was starting to feel it, lightheaded and dizzy and giddy, like he was flying. It could just be Sam though.

Sam, too, was starting to get a bit giggly, and every time he laughed Josh would kiss the sound from his lips, which just set them both off into even more giggles. Sam started poking one of his toes into Josh’s calf, and Josh kicked him in retaliation. Soon they were in a full-on war, poking and kicking and laughing until one of them stood up—Josh had no idea who it was—and the two of them ran across the rocky beach to splash in the cold water. 

Sam kicked his leg and Josh found himself sprayed with water.

“You _ asshole _,” Josh exclaimed, jumping onto his back and wrapping his legs around him, so that his wet feet left dark spots on Sam’s grey t-shirt.

“What the hell did you expect?!” Sam retaliated, swiveling around trying to get Josh to loosen his grip.

“You started it! You literally started it!”

“And you are literally a child,” Sam countered.

“You! Started! It!” Josh repeated, slapping Sam’s chest for emphasis with every word. Sam just laughed and launched them back towards the shore, poking Josh in the sides repeatedly. Josh finally dropped back to his feet and started to chase after him. They raced up and down the beach, giggling and bumping into each other and stopping to kiss until they collapsed back on the blanket again, a panting pile of limbs and kisses.

“_ God _ I love you,” Sam sighed, and Josh kissed his nose. It was bittersweet, hearing those words now. At no point had he ever doubted that; absolutely everything Sam had done since the day they met had proved it to him. But it wasn’t enough, was it? Sam was…Sam was leaving. Josh took another swig of wine.

“So…law school, huh?” he asked, apparently just tipsy enough that his current method of ignoring those thoughts wasn’t going to work this time.

“Yeah,” Sam replied, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You…excited?”

Sam looked down at him. “I am. I think it’ll be nice. Try something new, see where my career takes me. See…what more I can do, you know? This past year has been great, but I know there’s more out there for me, and I think this will help me find it.”

“More than…?” _ Me? _

“Don’t know,” Sam shrugged. He grabbed the bottle for another drink and tapped a finger on Josh’s nose. “But I’ll find out. _ We’ll _ find out, right?”

“Right,” Josh replied, slightly dazed. He didn’t know if it was the wine or Sam but his processing felt a bit slow, because Sam was sending him all sorts of mixed signals. He didn’t…did they have a future? Could they have a future? Did Sam want that?

“Who knows, right?” Sam asked easily. “I mean, in our line of work, things change all the time. By the time I graduate you could be working in the White House or something!”

Josh scoffed. “Yeah right.”

“I’m serious! Someone’s going to scoop you up!”

“I’ve already got a job,” Josh reminded him. He hadn’t told Sam about his job inquiries, had he? And he had been so careful not to leave stuff around his apartment…

“Sure, but you won’t work for Burns forever, right?” Sam countered. “At least, you’re not just gonna work on policy like you have been. You’re gonna…I dunno…_ lead _. The White House is in your future, baby.”

Of course Josh wanted to work at the White House, it had been his dream for as long as he could remember. Since before he had followed his friends out to the beach on a summer night when he was sixteen. Everywhere he went, he was constantly on the lookout for who could be _ it _. And that was a lot of what his newest job hunt had been about, too. He wanted to work for someone who was going somewhere and Burns, while a great man and amazing boss, was not that person.

“With who?” Josh asked.

“Whoever you want,” Sam answered. “Someone you believe in. Someone who can inspire people. Someone with ideas, someone with conviction, someone who _ wants _ it. You’re a great judge of character, you know. You’ll find someone, and you can get them there. You’re _ good _ at this, Josh.”

“We could do it together.”

“We could,” Sam conceded. “But you’ll leave me in the dust, sweetheart. You’re too good. And I’m gonna be so fucking proud of you when that happens.”

“Not sure what alternate reality you’re living in, Seaborn,” Josh rolled his eyes. “But there’s no way in hell I’d leave you behind. Ever. Us, right?”

“Us,” Sam agreed, and Josh’s heart swelled.

Truthfully, Josh had never thought of himself as much of a leader. He could follow orders to the letter, and made his living at efficiently getting work done, but leading? It just felt…crazy to him. Sam, on the other hand…

Sam was the one with the big ideas. Sam was the one who took risks. Sam was the one who wasn’t afraid to stand up for himself. Sam didn’t hide when he got scared, he just fought harder. Sam could take a little anecdote about cranes and turn it into an entire campaign to reform the Endangered Species Act. Sam was…

“You could be President,” Josh blurted, and he realized that he meant it one hundred percent. 

Sam just laughed. “God. You _ are _ drunk.”

“No, no I mean it!” Josh pressed. “You could…like…I dunno, run for President and shit. You’d be good at that! I’d work for you in the White House.”

“Seriously, Josh, what the hell? I haven’t…there are so many people who could be President before me…”

“Well, no shit, you’re like…_ young _ ,” Josh tried, the words getting jumbled somewhere between his brain and his tongue. He took another—longer—drink from the bottle and wondered if maybe that had something to do with it. “But like…ten, fifteen years from now? Baby, you’d be _ awesome _ at it!”

“If you say so,” Sam placated, smiling fondly, but Josh didn’t think he was convinced. That was fine, Josh was barely conscious himself. He nuzzled closer to Sam, running his nose along the neckline of Sam’s shirt, and Sam shivered.

“Cold?” he asked.

“A bit,” Sam replied. “_ Someone _ got my shirt wet.”

“Hey, you splashed me first!” Josh protested.

“If you say so, baby,” Sam grinned. “Ready to head back? I don’t want to wake your parents.”

“They’ll be up late,” Josh assured him. “But we can head back if you’re ready.” Sam grabbed the bottle of wine and gulped down the last few sips before standing up and helping Josh to his feet. Josh was a bit more unsteady, but he regained his balance with Sam’s assistance and led them back in the direction of the park entrance.

They walked more slowly on the way back, Josh struggling to stay on his feet and wanting this evening to last as long as possible. They didn’t get to do things like this back in D.C. Everywhere they went, there was someone they were hiding from. But not here, and not at night. This was just them. Josh thought he might miss this the most, when…the time came.

He wasn’t going to think about that tonight.

Josh slowed down when they approached the house, stopping Sam entirely just before the front porch.

“I…am so glad you came this weekend,” he admitted softly. “This was…seeing you here was…it was beyond words. Thank you. And thank you for…”

“Hey,” Sam stopped him, tipping Josh’s chin so their eyes met. “I love you.”

Josh let out a shaky breath. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Tonight that was all that counted.

\--

Josh slept in the next morning. It was his vacation, of course he was going to stay in bed past eleven. He wasn’t hungover. He _ wasn’t _. He took a quick shower and started shoving things into his suitcase. It didn’t much matter whose stuff he grabbed; their wardrobes had basically merged at this point, and they were going home together anyways. He stuffed his backpack full and left the rest for Sam to take care of, and made his way downstairs with his bag.

He found Sam sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and his dad, the daily paper spread out between them, and his mom stood at the stove toasting rolls. His dad laughed at something that Sam pointed out on the page in front of him, and Josh thought that this was what heaven looked like. He hovered in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene. He still couldn’t get over how right it felt to see Sam here with his parents. It was like he had been a member of the family all along. Just like how it always felt like Sam had been in his life forever.

Sam noticed him in the doorway first and lit up. “Morning sleepyhead,” he greeted. “Feeling okay?”

Josh rolled his eyes. “Just peachy. Ready to go in about an hour?”

“Let me go hop in the shower quickly and I’ll be right back down,” Sam confirmed. He hopped up and left a coffee-flavored kiss on Josh’s mouth before trotting back upstairs, leaving Josh a blushing mess to face his parents.

“Good morning, Josh,” his mom greeted knowingly.

“Morning,” he grumbled on the way to the coffee machine. After his first sip he raised his eyes to see his parents both looking at him with various expressions of amusement. “_ What _?”

“Nothing,” his dad answered for both of them. “Just…he’s a keeper.”

Josh’s cheeks colored again, but he couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “Yeah,” he replied, fondly thinking of a future they may or may not get to have, but Josh knew he would never be able to forget, “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was A Big One so pls let us know what you think! hard to believe, but we're getting to the home stretch...6 to go, so THANK YOU to everyone whos stuck with us this long!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE HAVE BEAUTIFUL FAN ART BY BEAUTIFUL @sadfruitsnack on Twitter!!!
> 
> We are SO LUCKY to see our vision of our baby gays come to life through her gorgeous commission. 
> 
> Check it out and give her some love!  
https://twitter.com/sadfruitsnack/status/1267501750904332288?s=20

**SAM**

The drive back to D.C. felt longer than the drive up to Westport had been. They got into the city right around the work traffic, and Josh fumed in the driver’s seat, cursing at all the commuters. Sam just rubbed circles between his shoulder blades with his thumb, not saying anything, biting his lip at Josh’s outbursts. It continued to be unfair how cute and funny Josh was when he was ticked off. 

Josh collapsed on Sam’s bed, face first, slamming into the pillows, his feet kicking up behind and landing on the foot of the bed. Sam laughed fondly and sat on the edge of the bed, dropping their suitcases and bending to place his cheek on that same plane on his back. The spot between his shoulder blades that, since that night in January, Sam had come to think of as _ his. _ All of Josh was his favorite part of Josh, but if he had to pick, it was that dip between his shoulder blades that was the perfect slope for Sam’s face. 

“Good to be home,” Josh sighed. After a beat, he said, “I mean, this is your home but… you know what I mean,” a bit awkwardly and not opening his eyes. 

Sam opened his mouth to say, _ “You are my home,” _ and then changed his mind. But then Josh was rolling over, looking up at him with big, wet eyes, and he realized that he had, in fact, said that out loud. Josh wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and buried his nose into the crook of his neck. Sam thought that maybe the crook of his neck, the spot just above his collar bone, was to Josh what the spot between Josh’s shoulder blades was to Sam. Sam wondered if when Josh’s face was slotted into that part of his neck, he felt as at home as he did on the rocky beach, or in his parents’ smoky living room. Because tucked against Josh was the only place that felt like home to Sam anymore. 

It took another half an hour or so before Sam could pull himself away long enough to unpack and wash up. Josh lost himself in his reading that he had to catch up on in order to make up for missing that whole day on the road. Sam made them dinner, and they ate it over piles of Josh’s papers, Sam reaching under the table with his feet to rub his socks up and down Josh’s calves. 

They settled back into the work routine pretty seamlessly. What took a little more effort on Sam’s part was trying to remember that this was temporary. There were times when it was impossible to forget, like when materials from Duke came in the mail or when he spent all afternoon playing phone tag with apartment people. But other times he felt so settled into his routine with Josh that he couldn’t imagine not waking up to a head full of messy curls and morning breath kisses. 

And that’s what was so difficult for him to figure out: if this summer was the beginning of a lifetime of mornings like these or if this summer was the bittersweet end of a great, short-lived love he’d look back on fondly for the rest of his life. He couldn’t gauge whether law school would be the story they’d tell about the challenge that made them stronger or the obstacle that broke them. 

His head constantly jumped back and forth between two places. First, that he and Josh were in love. And at the end of the day, they were compatible, and no matter what happened between now and then, Josh was his person, and somehow or another, they’d find a way back to each other. It seemed ineluctable. But second, with long-distance looming, with careers to consider, and family dynamics to navigate, he wondered if the ineluctability of it was simply confirmation bias. 

It was the latter problem that seemed the most pressing as he continued to have to scale back his expectations regarding what his living situation would include with the money he had completely on his own. Fortunately, he was riding on so many scholarships that tuition wasn’t going to be a problem, but housing proved to be a raspberry seed he could never get out of his teeth. Every time he got another call saying the neighborhood of the Raleigh-Durham area he’d been looking at was out of his budget, he felt like he was being knocked down a peg from an altitude at which he didn’t even realize he was standing. 

Dating Josh had certainly opened his eyes to the fact that he had grown up richer than he’d ever really registered. But suddenly having one’s financial support system ripped out from under oneself was certainly a rude awakening to say the least. He felt exceedingly guilty complaining that he suddenly had to think about money. His parents had covered everything from each summer camp to the nice apartment he lived in now. His parents’ money had meant he’d gotten to spend his college breaks on unpaid part-time internships in home offices of California Senators and Spanish consulates that yielded D.C. connections, while Josh had supplemented the money he made with his full time summer job filing things at his dad’s law firm working in the library most semesters at Harvard. It meant Josh had loans for his education and Sam didn’t. It meant Josh had to spend his government salary on rent and groceries, while Sam got to put his into a savings account, without which, he probably wouldn’t be able to afford to continue living in D.C. or find a place remotely safe and structurally sound in North Carolina without taking on a second job himself. And ever since meeting Matilda and Noah Lyman, the absence of his own parents’ support was palpable and omnipresent. Josh’s parents couldn't support him in the ways that Sam had been raised to think of as support. Sure, they could throw some money at him every now and then and help him out in a pinch, but Josh was pretty much starting on his own in terms of his finances. And now, even as frustrating as dealing with money was, having watched the way Josh’s parents hadn’t flinched when they’d told them they were together, he felt pretty sure he’d take on twenty Bachelor’s degrees worth of student debt just to have the kind of support one couldn’t put in a savings account. 

So in another way he felt guilty for how sad being around Josh’s parents had made him. He should feel lucky that at least they had the unconditional love of one set of parents. But as he pored over apartment listings in increasingly cheap parts of town, the stark comparison between this and Josh’s rambling laughter-filled phone calls with Matilda, the newspaper clippings Noah sent carefully cut along the article he thought Josh would like, often made him ache as much as it made him smile. It wasn’t so much that he cared about the money. Plenty of people had to worry about money; that was just something he’d have to get used to. Rather, it was the realization that money was the only way his parents had ever supported him. Money was important, but it shouldn’t be everything. But it was to his parents. Now, even that was too much for them because of who he was and who he loved. 

And shit, he loved Josh Lyman. 

Loving Josh Lyman was far from a new revelation, but he kept expecting to stop being surprised by how _ much _ he loved him. Sometimes, the intensity with which he loved him was so big it felt like it couldn’t fit in his body. Like if he opened his mouth to say “I love you” it would just keep pouring out, flooding around him in a massive tidal wave, but if he didn’t say it, it would swallow him whole. 

This could happen at any moment. Often, it was predictable. Other times, not so much. Often it was in tiny, soft twilight hours when Josh would be softly snoring and then, in his sleep, feel Sam’s gazing at him and peer open his eyes, settle in Sam’s stare and whisper, “Hey, baby.” Often it was in moments when the night was young and Sam had Josh’s wrists loosely bound to his headboard, spread out beneath him to explore like a map, moaning with every one of Sam’s teasing touches, impossibly close, until they burst together in the lamplight. Often, it was when Josh would tuck into Sam’s chest on the couch after a bout of tangled-limb kisses, their bodies still humming from the contact. Often, it was when Josh would turn to smile at him across a room, and Sam’s knees threatened to buckle like in cheesy movies. Often, it was when Josh made him laugh so hard he cried. 

Other times, it came on without any kind of warning. Other times it was a hand on the small of his back on their way up the subway escalator. Other times it was a grumpy huff as Josh talked through a problem with a vote count. Other times it was the way Josh’s voice would pitch higher and higher and louder and louder the longer he talked emphatically about campaign finance reform. Or the sway of his hips when he walked with a purpose. Or the way he blew his hair out of his face with a puff of air up at his forehead. Or when he got a speck of food on his face. Or when he would almost trip and fall on the same uneven floor board in Sam’s living room every time he came over. Or… or… or… or a thousand other things that brought Sam’s adoration for this man careening to the surface of his skin at a dangerous velocity, completely out of nowhere.

Like one time, Sam was packing up his apartment—things like winter clothes and his bookshelves that he wouldn’t need between now and a few weeks from now when the lease let up at the end of June—on a Sunday afternoon, and Josh had been called into the office for a last minute meeting. He had rented a storage unit nearby for his stuff, but he still wasn’t exactly sure where he was going between the end of one lease and the start of the next one. Sam was wrapping up some of his coffee mugs in bubble wrap when the phone rang, and Josh’s voice on the other line instantly made Sam grin, “Listen, do you know how to make cupcakes?” 

Sam chuckled and said sarcastically, “I’m sure I can figure it out,” as if Josh had tasked him with something difficult, “Why?”

“Apparently tomorrow is Mia’s birthday, and I got put in charge of making cupcakes,” Josh sighed.

“How did _ that _ happen?” Sam laughed.

“I stopped listening in a meeting when they stopped talking about things I cared about.” 

Sam snorted and asked, “What flavor?”

“I don’t know flavors just, y’know, something that tastes good,” Josh threw in a quick “Love you, bye” under his breath before hanging up. Sam just stood in the kitchen for a second blinking at his phone. Josh was ridiculous. Sam loved him so fucking much. 

Josh got back from The Hill shortly after Sam returned from the store with ingredients to make cupcakes. It’s not even that Sam was a great cook or baker or anything. It’s just that he’d always liked it. So he’d busted out a recipe book he’d already squirreled away in a box, assuming he wouldn’t have the chance to use it before the end of the month, and was cutting up chocolate pieces for the batter. 

“You’re a fucking lifesaver, Sammy,” Josh sighed throwing his briefcase onto the couch. He came into the kitchen and pressed a single, long kiss on the back of Sam’s neck. It made Sam’s stomach flutter. He wondered if his stomach would ever stop fluttering.

Josh took a shower as Sam measured out the dry ingredients and filled the muffin tins with liners. When Josh emerged, he was just wearing pajama pants and a head of damp hair and sat on the very minimal amount of empty counter space. 

“Joshua, you’re in the way,” Sam groaned. 

“No I’m not.”

As relieved as Josh was to not have to be making cupcakes himself, Josh was always annoyed when Sam had to do something that required attention and both his hands. Every time Sam crossed around him to grab something from the cupboards of the pantry, Josh would playfully grab a fistfull of his t-shirt and pull Sam in to kiss him. Once Sam started pouring everything together, Josh just kicked his legs from his perch on the counter, giggling every time Sam tried and failed to knock his feet away. When Sam responded to Josh squeezing his ass by rolling his eyes and continuing to stir the batter with a big wooden spoon, Josh pouted and narrowed his eyes. 

“You asked me to do this!” Sam laughed, rolling his eyes again. He should have seen it coming, but it happened so quickly, he didn’t have a chance to shield himself when Josh stuck his hand into the open bag of flour, and threw a handful of it against Sam’s shoulder.

_ “JOSH!” _ he squealed in annoyance. But the mischievous expression he was met with when he looked up was too cheeky and dimpled and darling not to leave him laughing. Another cloud of flour slammed against his face, covering his glasses and rendering him speechless and unable to see. To the sound of Josh’s crazed giggles, he removed his glasses, wiped them clean, and put them back on his face, which was still covered in flour. This got another uproarious laugh from Josh. On an impulse, Sam grabbed the wooden spoon from the mixing bowl, flinging the chocolate mess in Josh’s direction, leaving a Picasso-like splatter across Josh’s bare torso. 

Josh just gasped and looked over at him with huge, delighted eyes before hurling handful after handful of flour at Sam’s face. Laughing hysterically, Sam swung more of the batter at Josh, who screamed and jumped off the counter, blocking his face with his hands. Sam chased him, grabbing him by the waist and pinning him against the refrigerator, smearing the spoon back and forth across Josh’s face, pink with laughter. Wriggling in his arms, Josh squished his hands into the bowl of strawberries, perfectly sliced for the frosting, and shoved them into Sam’s nose, smudging them down his face and into his mouth. The juice from the berries dripped down Sam’s t-shirt, so he pulled it off and tackled Josh in giggly kisses, returning to tickle Josh’s ribs with his chocolate-covered fingers. 

“Fuck you!” Josh choked out through laughter, grabbing an egg and cracking it over Sam’s hair before he could move. 

Sam gasped in horror, “Oh my god, you’re _ crazy!” _ and reached for the bag of powdered sugar and chucked handfuls into Josh’s hair. Soon they slipped down against the fridge and were in a mess on the floor, rolling in more cupcake stuff than what made it into the mixing bowl, laughing and tackling each other with kisses and tickles and any other ingredients they could find. Suddenly, Josh’s face fell from light to serious, and he grabbed the back of Sam’s neck and pulled him in to kiss him, sticky and sweet. Before he realized what was happening, they were making out on the kitchen floor. He was _ pretty _ sure this was some kind of wild sex dream he’d had as a teenager and not actually something that was taking place in his apartment right now. 

When it became clear that they were either going to need to stop or take off their pants and actually do something highly unsanitary in spilled baked goods, Sam summoned all his restraint and pulled himself to sit up and look down at Josh who was comically debauched on his back. 

“So much for that shower,” Josh grinned, looking down at his chest where he was particularly streaked with chocolate. Without thinking, Sam tugged Josh’s hands to his face and sucked each of his fingers clean, eliciting little whimpers from the back of Josh’s throat. Then he slowly moved down Josh’s body until he dipped to lick batter off his naval, and Josh threw his head back so hard it slammed violently loud into the bottom of the fridge. 

“Ow!” Josh exclaimed. And now they were laughing again, helping each other up, standing barefoot in the disarray around them. 

Sam looked up at Josh through his flour-covered glasses, and the thing happened where all the feelings he had for Josh felt like a physical presence. Like they had weight, and like they were about to explode like the cupcake ingredients across the floor and take him down with them. Despite the fact that they had been spending most nights together since they started dating, it was a lot to ask, even for just the rest of the summer before school started. But Josh was his home. So he took a sharp inhale and looked Josh in the eyes.

“Hey, so, can I move in with you?” he said abruptly before gesturing around the kitchen, “I promise I won’t make this much of a mess.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> of course this is late leave me alone im Trying okay

**JOSH**

In theory, they had been living together for months. They hardly spent nights apart as it was, and they already kept things at each other’s apartments, so this shouldn’t be a big deal.

It was a huge fucking deal.

While Josh was aware—more than aware—that this would only be temporary, he couldn’t help but think of it as some massive step in their relationship. All the things he had worried about—all the things that had kept him from asking Sam to move in with him before—were still there. At least, many of them were. They had a valid explanation now, at least, but Josh was paranoid that people would just _ know _ . He only had one bedroom, and his couch was definitely not fit to sleep on for a month, and no one but the two of them knew that, of course, but _ what if _…

And if Josh was honest, there was a part of him that worried living together would just make Sam more eager to finally leave. He and Sam lived in completely different types of spaces. Josh’s apartment had become infinitely more organized since Sam had started spending time here, but it was nothing like the deliberate order of Sam’s own place. After a month of living here, Sam could be so sick of Josh being in his space that he never wanted to see him again. That thought just about killed Josh.

Still, he agreed, because Josh would give Sam anything he asked, so starting the last week of June the remainder of Sam’s things made their way to Josh’s apartment.

Looking at the empty space as they packed up the last of Sam’s things for storage, Josh found himself feeling a bit emotional. He might never have officially lived here, but this place was just as much a part of him as his own apartment was, because he had been with Sam here. It was a peek into Sam’s mind, a place where he got to see the Sam guarded from the rest of the world. They had had their first time here. Now it was…lifeless. Empty. Not at all Sam. Josh ached already from how much he missed him, and Sam hadn’t even left yet.

Sam gently brushed his hand against Josh’s, not quite holding it, but a silent comfort; he was feeling it too.

“Ready to go?” he asked softly, and Josh offered a nod and a pinched smile. He picked up the box and followed Sam out to the car, loading it in the already-full trunk.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay getting everything down there?” Josh asked.

“You act like I’m going on horseback or something baby, it’s only four hours,” Sam reminded him fondly. Josh knew that. Four hours, two hundred and fifty-eight miles that would separate him from the love of his life.

Sam would be getting up early tomorrow morning to drive some of his things down to North Carolina and look at some apartment units there. Josh had offered to go with him, but Sam told him he would be okay. It was probably for the best; Josh had work to do here, and he might as well get used to Sam…not being here.

That night, Sam made the two of them dinner: grilled chicken with wild rice and brussels sprouts. The fact that Josh didn’t even flinch at the contents of his plate was truly telling of just how far Sam had brought him in a year. They ate on the couch like always, and curled into each other as soon as they put their plates off to the side. It would be so easy to pretend that this was it. That it was a normal Thursday night, and they would go to bed together and wake up together and go to work together and nothing ever had to end. But it was ending. It felt like it had barely begun, and it was already ending.

Josh’s chest felt tight.

He could barely drag himself out of bed the next morning to see Sam off with a tight hug and wet eyes, probably a bit dramatic given that Sam would be back on Sunday night, but it was…symbolic, or something. Talking about Sam leaving was one thing, but this made it real. Looking for apartments, moving his things down, spending the weekend getting to know the place that would be his new home…that was real.

So Josh did what had always been his coping strategy and went into work, despite the congressman being in his district for the weekend and leaving them with specific instructions to take a day off. The building wasn’t empty, but his office suite was, and Josh took a moment to look around. For all that had changed in the last year, this place certainly hadn’t. The desks hadn’t moved so much as an inch, precariously placed so as to fit the maximum amount of people in the small office space. His job hadn’t changed much either, and now with Sam officially on his way to another state, that became even more of a pressing concern than it had been a few weeks ago. The walls felt stifling all of a sudden, like if he didn’t get out soon he might die here.

Was that how Sam felt? Was that why he needed to leave? Josh couldn’t blame him, no matter how much it hurt. Sam could do so much more, and Josh wanting him around wasn’t a good enough reason for him to limit himself. Josh might be lost, but Sam was figuring his life out, just like he deserved to do. Josh had to let him go.

Instead of walking towards his desk, Josh turned around and started wandering the halls. He remembered the first time he had stepped foot in this building, on a school trip in high school. He had known then and there that this was where he belonged. That every breath he took from then on was just to get him closer to this very place. And now he was here and feeling a little bit lost, and he wondered _ what was it all for _?

These halls that had once been majestic symbols of what he could do for the country had become bleak reminders of just how powerless he was. Everything he had ever wanted…it wasn’t that the job wasn’t what he had expected. He had gotten exactly what he had signed up for—he just wasn’t the same person who had signed up for it. He needed…he had to get out of this building. He had to try something else. He had to…

He had worked with Sam in this building, and now he couldn’t imagine coming to work in a single one of these offices knowing that no one would be waiting to meet him for lunch, or to walk with him to the metro station, or to make sure he took care of himself during particularly busy weeks. Washington felt lonely enough as it was without the constant reminder that he truly was alone.

At the very least, he knew he couldn’t work in a tiny cube in the corner of another office somewhere.

Walking by so many people buzzing about without a single acknowledgement made Josh realize just how irrelevant he was. He had never fancied himself as someone particularly important, of course, but he was good at his job, and at the very least his boss was important. He’d worked in this building for several years now, and he was exactly where he had started.

Eventually, he ended up back at his desk, and began sorting through the mess of papers that he hadn’t organized in months. Sometimes, when he was running particularly late, Sam would try to pile them into some semblance of an order, but he knew not to move them too much, lest he risk disrupting Josh’s flow. At a quick glance, Josh could see at least five packets that had become obsolete over a year ago. With a sigh, he pulled the recycling bin over to his desk and got to work.

The sun had changed position in the sky by the time he was interrupted, and Josh wondered if maybe he should be at home waiting for Sam to call, then realized how pathetic that sounded.

“Thought you folks were off today,” came the sunny greeting from the office entrance. “Came in here to turn off the lights and what do I see but Josh Lyman, hunched over his desk like he has nowhere else to be.”

Josh stood. “Mr. Taylor.”

Doug Taylor was the Chief of Staff for the Minority Leader, a relatively young guy for the position he held, and someone Josh admired a great deal.

“Word on the street is you’re out job hunting,” Mr. Taylor said.

“Um, yes sir,” Josh replied, unsure. He hadn’t quite talked with his boss yet about leaving, preferring to test his options a bit before making a stay-or-go decision, so it made him a little uncomfortable that word of his inquiries was spreading (and even if the rumors had only reached other various staffers by this point, there was still the matter of Sam).

“You don’t have to look so concerned, kid, it’s completely normal to be looking for a change of scenery. You’ve been in this office, what, two years, right? It’s your time. No one’s going to begrudge you that.”

Somehow, that made Josh feel a lot better. He had been feeling a bit guilty about just bailing on someone he respected, someone who had given Josh an incredible opportunity here in Washington, and as much as he was ready to move on, he couldn’t help that little piece in the back of his brain that told him he needed to stay. Finish what had been started. Don’t abandon the people who trust you. Put others’ needs before your own. But Taylor was right, Josh needed to do this, for himself. 

“If you’re interested, I think my boss has a few ideas for you,” Taylor continued. “And I’ve been talking to some folks at the DNC as well. One way or another, this is going to be a big year, kid. We could certainly use you on the front lines.”

“You’re…really?” was all Josh could stutter.

“There’ll be some caucus positions opening up, especially if we win the majority, and a whole slew of freshmen we’ll want to staff with experienced blood. Even if you’re not going out on a campaign this summer—actually, I think we’d prefer if you didn’t go out on a campaign this summer,” he amended, “you’d be at the top of quite a few lists.”

Josh was completely baffled. He hadn’t even _ done _ anything yet, not really at least. He thought he had kept his head down and worked hard, and maybe eventually Congressman Burns would take notice and promote him internally at some point, if he didn’t go out and fight for another job himself first. His goal had never been attention, and he found it almost laughable that people in Democratic leadership were talking about him in any context, much less one where he was a part of their big strategy for the next Congress.

“Well, sir, I don’t quite know what to say,” Josh responded honestly, “but I really appreciate the consideration.”

“Just think about it,” Taylor encouraged. “Talk to Burns, and give me a call if you do decide to leave. We can spend the summer catching you up on our strategy for the rest of the year and narrow down a few targets for where you might fit come the new session. You’ve got my number?” Josh nodded. “They’ll put you right through. Whatever you decide, Josh, you’ve got a really great future here, got it?”

“Yes sir,” Josh responded again.

“Atta boy. Now get outta here, you’re not supposed to be working today! Go do something fun!” and with that final instruction, Josh was alone again. He was just as confused as before, but now there was something underneath it, something that Josh hadn’t felt since he got here. It was _ purpose _, that feeling that he was meant to be here, that his decisions mattered. He could stay here for the rest of his days, maybe move up eventually, or maybe get lost in the shuffle and get burned out before he even had the chance to do something real.

Or he could take a leap.

\--

The phone was ringing before Josh had even made it into his apartment.

He dropped his bag at the door and nearly tripped over a pair of stray shoes—he needed to clean those up before Sam got back—on his way to grab the receiver.

“Hello?” he picked up.

“_There you are! I’ve been calling all day! _” Sam greeted, and Josh let out an involuntary little happy sigh at the sound of his lover’s voice.

“Sorry, baby, I went into work,” Josh explained.

“_Thought you weren’t supposed to do that_,” Sam scolded.

“Thought you weren’t the boss of me,” Josh returned, and he heard Sam’s amused chuckle over the receiver.

“_Whatever. Listen_,” Sam began excitedly, “_the drive down here isn’t bad at all! Like, four hours is almost nothing! Such an easy trip for a weekend, or something, and god Josh you should see this place! It’s absolutely gorgeous! And I know D.C. is gorgeous too but this is just a completely different kind of incredible…_”

Josh’s heart constricted as he listened to Sam describe the place that would become his new home. The place that would take him away from Josh. He sounded so…relieved, could be the right word. Like until he got there he hadn’t been sure if he made the right choice, but the moment he stepped onto the campus he knew. That had been, as much as Josh hated to admit it, the last strand of hope he had held that maybe he would wake up tomorrow and this would all be over, that Sam would make some shocking, eleventh-hour decision to just bail on the whole thing as he realized that he could never be truly happy anywhere but in Josh’s arms. But that was just some stupid, overly-dramatic fantasy that Josh had been living, and now it was time to wake up. Sam was moving on, and this was where he was going.

“That sounds amazing, Sam,” Josh tried to convey as much enthusiasm as he could, though he was pretty sure he fell flat. That happened when you’ve had the rug taken out from under you at the same time as getting punched in the gut. Josh had earned some leeway on this matter.

“_It really is. Oh my god, I can’t wait for you to see it! _”

“Have you found a place yet?” Josh asked, half hoping that the answer was no, and that he was giving up and just living with Josh until the end of time. Dramatic fantasy.

“_Not for sure, but I did meet a couple guys trying to lease a bedroom in their apartment_,” Sam shared. “_I’m meeting them for dinner later tonight and I’m going to go tour the unit then. Having roommates to start out with would really help my budget, and I’d still get my own room at least, so I’ll have space to study, or, y’know…whenever I need it. If the place is as nice as they say it is, I think I’m going to take it._”

“That’s…that’s good,” Josh replied, every word from Sam like a stab in his heart. Not only was he leaving, but he already had more friends down in Durham than Josh had in all of D.C. with Sam gone. “I’m…glad everything’s going so well.” What the hell would Sam need him for if he was going to go make _ actual _ friends?

“_Do you want to tell me about your day? _” Sam asked, “_other than doing that which you were not supposed to do? _”

“Do you mean going into work?”

“_Yes, that’s exactly what I mean._”

“It was fine,” Josh summarized, still not entirely ready to talk to Sam about his impending career move. He still wasn’t sure himself, and he didn’t want to make it a whole thing until he had a better handle on where he was leaning. “It was…I dunno, I just needed something to do, I guess. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t actually do much work, mostly just sorted through some stuff on my desk, got rid of crap I don’t need.”

“_Oh thank god_,” Sam sighed in relief. “ _can only organize around that shit for so long, baby, it was well past time for you to part with your report on banking reforms in Texas from 1984._”

“Y’know what, Seaborn, some of us have better things to do than invade other people’s workspace,” Josh huffed.

“_And lucky for you, I am not one of those people_,” Sam confirmed. “_So you’re welcome._”

“Whatever,” Josh grumbled. “Anything else? Check into the hotel okay?”

“_Everything’s fine here, sweetheart, no need to worry_,” Sam soothed, and Josh’s heart leapt at the pet name. He would miss that feeling tremendously. “_I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? And please promise me you won’t go into work again unless there’s some sort of emergency? _”

“I promise,” Josh responded, having no intentions of keeping that particular promise. What the hell else was he supposed to do while the love of his life got ready to build another life, without him? It was work or drink, and one of those wasn’t acceptable at nine in the morning. 

“_I love you_,” Sam said tenderly. Josh wanted to curl up in it.

“I love you too,” he replied, and _ that _ was the most honest phrase he had ever uttered. The line went dead and Josh put the phone back on its hook. One day down, two more to go. And then, well, the real countdown would begin, and Josh would be left to figure out which parts of his heart were left to keep the blood. flowing through his veins. He just needed enough to stay alive, Sam could have the rest. Sam would have the rest whether he wanted it or not.

Four hours away from here, Sam was having the time of his life. He was meeting new people, getting ready for a new exciting adventure, and Josh wasn’t sure what place, if any, he would have in Sam’s new world. One thing was for sure, Josh refused to be the pathetic loser moping around for a lover that might not have been his to begin with. If Sam could move on, so could he.

And so with a beer in one hand and a pen in the other, Josh sat down at his rarely-used kitchen table and began a list:

_ Goals and Responsibilities for My New _ <strike> _ Career _ </strike> _ Life _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> josh being dramatic? more likely than you think. (this could literally be a summary of this fic. or like. of the show itself tbh.)
> 
> there are 4 chapters life. 4. chapters. left. this is insane. thank you so much to anyone/everyone who's stuck with us this long, we're both so grateful for ANY comments we receive, so please let us know what you think as we come down the home stretch here


	27. Chapter 27

**SAM**

“Here’s the thing,” Sam said flipping his map around in his lap, “I think we should have taken Exit 10.”

“Sam!” Josh cried in good-humored exasperation, “I asked you fifteen times if you were sure I wasn’t supposed to take Exit 10.”

“You did,” Sam confirmed.

“And what did you say?”

“I said I was 100 percent certain you should not take Exit 10,” Sam replied, “Because of the shortcut.” 

“So I didn’t take Exit 10,” Josh cried, but a shimmer of a dimple revealed that he wasn’t actually upset. 

“Which it turns out you should have done,” Sam said. 

“Why?” 

“Because Exit 10 _ is _ the shortcut,” Sam said quickly, “So I’m now 100 percent certain that you should, in fact, get off at Exit 10.”

_ “You _get off,” Josh muttered pulling off onto the next exit to reroute, flashing Sam a sly smile in the rearview. 

By the time they pulled into Seneca Creek State Park, the sun was already mostly up, making the sky and the mist a sort of lavender kind of yellow that Sam could never find the right word to describe. Sam loved mornings. And he loved nights. He loved any time of day where everything was quiet but his mind. Josh detested mornings and could usually stay up well into the night, but would start getting cranky without sleep faster than Sam did. But Josh had been surprisingly game to beat the sun and pile in the car on something of a spontaneous drive out of the city to watch the sunrise over Seneca Creek on their day off for the holiday. He’d grumbled about it the night before when Sam pitched the idea, but Sam was getting good at pulling the right faces to make Josh agree to do pretty much anything, even at ungodly hours in the morning. They’d missed the sunrise, however, when the missed exit turned what should have been a forty-minute drive from Josh’s place in Brookland into closer to an hour. 

“We missed the sunrise,” Sam said in mock accusation, letting the car door close behind him. 

“Whose fault is that?” Josh smirked back. 

“Yours,” Sam retorted. 

“How is it my fault?” Josh cried, “You’re the one who told me not to take Exit 10?”

“It’s your fault for listening to me.” 

It had only been four days since Sam had moved in officially. In most ways, it didn’t feel any different at all. They had been spending the vast majority of their spare time in each other’s presence for the better part of a year now, and had fallen asleep side-by-side most nights for months. Besides, Sam had started reorganizing Josh’s things to impose order on the place early on. But it was seeing his things all mixed up with Josh’s that made this feel strange: washing their laundry in the same loads, rummaging through the kitchen and finding pieces of his own dining sets that he’d brought with him, having brought _ his _ pillow to _ their _ bed. Having _ his _ bedside photographs on what was now _ his _ nightstand. 

As the dawn became morning, they slowly hiked through a steady wooded trail along Seneca Creek, Sam blabbering about the difference between river tributaries and estuaries, Josh listening, but mostly just basking up Sam’s company. It wasn’t a long hike, but since they’d already missed the sunrise, they weren’t in a hurry. Stopping to rest and talk. Stopping for Sam to look at algae he found interesting on the sides of trees. Stopping for Josh to tie his shoelaces. Stopping for Sam to sneak a kiss behind a tree that didn’t even make Josh flinch because they had the trail completely to themselves. By the time they reached Kingfisher Overlook, the sun was up in the sky. They sat together on a large stump, looking out over the cool, almost olive green water below, bumping their ankles and feet together, holding hands between their legs. 

“This is nice,” Josh whispered almost to himself, shifting his head to press against the back of Sam’s shoulder, leaving a long kiss against his t-shirt that was just now starting to feel sweaty.

“I forget how good it is to be out in nature until I’m in it for the first time in a while,” Sam mused, “Forget how close places like this are when you’re in the city.” Josh just nodded against him, so he went on, “There’ll be lots of places like this to explore in North Carolina.” He was about to add, _ “just you and me,” _ but Josh stood up abruptly at the sound of kids gleefully shouting and footprints crunching up the trail towards them. 

“Ready?” Josh asked, stretching his arms over his head.

The walk back down was a lot faster and not nearly as serene, mostly because it was getting hot now and it was less pleasant to dawdle. But the trail was crowded now, too, with a few fast-paced hikers going at such a speed that it seemed like there was no way they were able to take in the scenery and families with children, out of school and work for the Fourth of July, who had enough pent up energy to fill the trail with shrieks and laughter. As they rounded a bend, Sam spotted a young mom balancing a kid on her hip while trying to coax another out of the creek where she had plopped herself diapered-bottom-first into the muddy water. Josh laughed as Sam felt himself groan, “Thank God I’m gay,” Sam muttered. 

Josh gave him an inquisitive look saying, “Oh?”

“I won’t ever have to do that,” Sam gave a small nod in the direction of the family that was getting increasingly high-pitched in their wails. 

“Kids?” Josh clarified. 

“Never seen the appeal.” Which was true. He could take or leave kids, and particularly now that his own parents were no longer speaking to him, his family’s track record didn’t inspire a lot of paternal instincts.

They continued their hike, talking about what Josh had heard so far about Burns’ district visit: most notably, a gaffe he’d made when he had met publicly with a group of activists for cancer research funding led by a prominent oncologist and public speaker, Dr. Leslie Patterson, where the Congressman had shaken her _ husband’s _ hand thinking that _ he _ was Dr. Leslie Patterson and did not seem to register his mistake for the duration of the event. Since the news made it to the halls of The Hill, everyone had been speculating as to whether he was getting too old and too out of touch to run again.

Josh just shrugged. “He doesn’t care that he’s out of touch,” he said, “I hate to speak ill of my own boss…” 

“And yet you do,” Sam teased, “Often.”

“...but he knows he’s in a Blue District and he’s become such a party institution that nobody will ever give him a primary challenge,” Josh continued, “All he has to do to win is to have his name on the ballot.” 

“Which he will,” Sam sighed.

“Which he will,” Josh echoed, “Despite not having made a single political calculation in the past fifteen years that can be described as anything other than the bare minimum.” 

Sam sighed again and stopped idly to pick a fistful of wildflowers as Josh re-tied his shoelace. 

When they both stood up, Sam asked, “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to work for someone _ real?” _

“What do you mean?” Josh asked.

“Do you ever get tired of politics being about politics and not about…. Helping people?” Sam felt himself cringe slightly as his own sentiment, but he stood by it. 

“D’yeah!” Josh exclaimed, beginning to keep walking.

“That’s the only thing that makes me wonder if this is the right field for me, Josh,” Sam let out another thoughtful sigh and followed him, “I don’t think I want to spend my life pushing other people’s agendas when their agendas are more about themselves than they are about….” he paused again and then quietly said, “Making a _ real _ difference in people’s lives.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t think I could work for anybody long-term unless they were interested in _ real _ change for _ real _ people,” Sam kicked a pinecone and starting plucking uneven petals from one of the little yellow flowers, “Are there even people like that anymore?”

“Probably,” Josh said, “But most of them don’t work on Capitol Hill. And none of them are gonna pay you enough for what you want.” Something about the way Josh said that… Sam narrowed his eyes, Josh cleared his throat and amended it to, “What you deserve.” 

“I think it would be worth it.” Sam concluded.

They reached the mouth of the trail, and Josh went to the car to get their cooler and Sam found a shady spot underneath a tree by the lake. Several families had set up picnics. There were kids playing freeze tag. A young couple was practically making out on their blanket, feeding each other strawberries like it was soft porn. Sam couldn’t tell if his crinkled nose was because he thought they were being rude or because he wished he could do just that with Josh. Another group of kids was splashing in swimsuits at the bank of the lake with a huge Golden Retriever who kept almost knocking them down. A mom and dad read their books in matching sun hats. A group of adolescent girls sat in a big circle making daisy chains and laughing. A little boy, who was probably about three or four, in American flag swim trunks crawled in the grass. 

Josh found him and they spread out their blanket, setting out their lemonades, sandwiches, and bunches of grapes. In the shade behind the groups of people, Sam pushed the envelope just a little further than he would have if they were having lunch in the city and not in a park in Maryland and sat with his legs crossed so that they overlapped with Josh’s. Josh stiffened out of habit, but didn’t move away. He just munched on handfuls of grapes, very intentionally not touching Sam but giving him big beamy smiles behind his sunglasses. They finished their food and Sam took another risk and laid back on the blanket, resting his head on Josh’s thigh. Josh leaned back on his palms and crossed his ankles, trying to look like it was no big deal, but his face kept moving back towards the other people, the oblivious families having their Fourth of July picnics, his shades hiding how his eyes scanned to make sure none of them looked back. 

Naturally, the minute that Sam let his eyes flutter closed, his skin soaking in the warmth of the summer air and the coolness of the breeze that rustled the leaves overhead, Josh jerked up to his feet without warning. Sam startled and scrambled to sit up and look over at Josh who just said, “Be right back, babe.” 

Before Sam could completely figure out what was going on, Josh had strolled across the meadow and was squatting down eye-level with the solitary boy in the American flag shorts. Sam could just make out Josh asking what he was up to and the response that he was looking for bugs. 

“That’s so cool!” he heard Josh cry. Josh hated bugs. He did not think bugs were cool. But he spent the next half hour on his hands and knees picking up everything he could find and playfully asking if it was a bug until the little boy was laughing so hard he had to hold his own tummy. Josh didn’t come back until after the boy’s mom had called him and he’d gone waddling back to his family’s picnic, not really turning to wave at Josh, but Josh waved at his parents and headed back to Sam with a soft smile.

“What was that about?” Sam asked lovingly as Josh approached.

He just shrugged a particularly Josh shrug, “I don’t know. Been that kid.”

Sam understood the appeal now. 

\--

They got home a couple hours later, showered together, and then spread out on the bed for a cat nap. When they woke back up, it was getting late, so Sam made a quick dinner and they turned on the news. 

At 8:55, Josh took Sam by the hand and snuck him out into the hall out to the fire escape, ducking to the roof access. Sam knew what was happening, but the little twinkle in Josh’s eyes told him he should act surprised when the slipped through a big wooden latched opening and climbed onto the roof. 

“That way!” Josh pointed in the direction of downtown with a grin. 

Not a minute later, the first distant surge of color exploded into the sky and Josh watched him watch as the fireworks sparkled in the darkness, casting warm hues across Josh’s cheeks. From this spot, they couldn’t see all of them, but each time one came rocketing into full view, Sam couldn’t contain his excited gasp. It was certainly the biggest fireworks display he’d ever seen. And though they were far from the action, watching it alone with Josh made it all the more dazzling because he could see each burst in Josh’s eyes too. 

Then they were kissing with the fireworks behind them, Josh’s hands on his wrist and hip, his on Josh’s chest. Because that’s what you do when you’re young and in love and the fireworks you’re watching can’t compete with the fireworks in your stomach. 

Due to the nature of their relationship, they didn’t get too many movie moments. There had been Valentines Day, and there was kissing under the stars on the beach Josh had snuck to in childhood, and there was quite literally bumping into each other to essentially fall in love at first sight. But most of their firsts, most of their moments had to be stolen or private. Cinematic romance was hard to come by when you had to hide all the time. So Sam squeezed his eyes shut so he could soak up the feeling of kissing the love of his life to the Fourth of July fireworks so that he could let the romance of it recharge him on the days he had to sit on his hands to keep from being swept off his feet. 

When they broke apart, Josh had tears in his eyes, and Sam kissed his nose, wondering if Josh hadn’t been thinking the exact same thing.

They pretty much went to bed after that, Josh turning further into his sleepy grumpy self with each news segment. Sam curled next to him after he finished brushing his teeth and washing his face, setting his glasses on his nightstand. 

“What a splendid day,” Sam half-whispered as his tucked himself into Josh’s chest.

“Mmm hmm,” Josh agreed lazily, burying his nose in Sam’s hair.

“Can’t wait to do it again next year.”

Josh kissed his head and was snoring soon. Sam took a little longer to fall asleep, but as he did, he was imagining a made-up scene of a picnic blanket and kids with sticky fingers and laughter and fireworks and Josh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my only 4th of July commemoration because The United States is dumb and shouldn't exist and the only thing worth celebrating is all the resistance to oppression and the creation and love and life and beauty of Black, Brown, differently-abled, Indigenous, women, and QUEER people. If you celebrated today, make sure you also follow this link to pay your rent this month to the indigenous tribe whose land on which you're living that was stolen because of all the genocide the white slaveowners we celebrated today: https://medium.com/@senamcrow/youre-already-on-stolen-land-you-might-as-well-pay-rent-e2250a81d1fe 
> 
> Bye for now.  
LP


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point we've all accepted that i cant stick to a posting schedule, right? like we've all given up that expectation? okay, cool, good, now on with our show (and its a long one folks)

**JOSH**

Every time Josh had a good day, his immediate next thought was _ there’s no way this is going to last _ . Sam was already responsible for most of Josh’s best days, and it just hurt even more knowing that he would probably never be _ this _ happy again. Sam was his one amazing thing.

Yesterday had been possibly one of the best days of his life. Because in a perfect world, that would be the _ rest _ of his life. He and Sam, going out without the worry of who might see. For the first time since he could remember, Josh hadn’t been concerned about getting caught. They had just gotten to enjoy the day together, sitting together on the blanket that they had dug out of one of Sam’s boxes, never _ quite _touching in the way they wanted to, but close enough that observant onlookers could have reasonably assumed the truth. If they had been asked outright, Josh might not have even been able to deny it.

(He would have regretted it later, no doubt, but in the moment…)

It sent a pang through Josh’s heart to realize that it felt more impossible than ever, somehow, this future. Because whenever he closed his eyes and tried to picture it, the only one he could picture was Sam. He considered himself extremely lucky as a gay man—and what incredible growth that he was able to admit that to himself so freely—to have even this one great love. He wouldn’t get another, he was fairly sure. 

And then there had been the little boy. Josh…knew he didn’t seem like someone who wanted that. He was so dedicated to his work, it could be hard to comprehend there being room for anything else in his life. But he had essentially grown up an only child and that had left him aching for a big family of his own one day. He wanted kids. He wanted kids _ with Sam _ . But he wouldn’t get that either. For one, he wouldn’t even have Sam for that much longer, and even in the astronomically small chance that they _ did _ stay together, Sam didn’t seem to want kids. Which was understandable, except that Josh _ really wanted kids _ . But that led to the third problem, which was that he was gay. He couldn’t just… _ have _ kids, the way he had always thought would happen. He didn’t…could gay people even be parents? Josh had never heard of such a thing. Not having kids was…almost enough to make Josh want to just shove himself back into the closet he hadn’t quite left. But now that he had experienced this incredible, fulfilling world of being with someone he actually loved, he really couldn’t go back to the uncomfortable experiences with girls that always made him think there was something wrong with him.

Which means that in addition to losing the love of his life, Josh also found himself saying goodbye to the dream family he would never have. It was a lot, honestly.

So Josh did what any other well-functioning human would do when faced with his life collapsing around him, and called Doug Taylor to set up a meeting.

The Wednesday after the fourth, Josh got up earlier than Sam (a very rare occurrence), leaving with little in the way of explanation past “I have a lot of work to do,” which wasn’t a _ total _ lie, anyways. He was going in extra early to get some work done, before his secret meeting with the chief of staff for the Minority Leader about his impending job switch that he still hadn’t told Sam about. And he still didn’t know why. But he had lasted this long, Josh almost felt like he needed to follow through before clueing Sam into what was going on.

Hell, Sam didn’t really tell him about law school until he had made his final decision, so Josh didn’t think he was completely out of line. It’s entirely possible he’s feeling just as hurt by that as he is by Sam leaving at all. Should probably address that. (Definitely wouldn’t).

At nine-fifty-six, Josh bundled up a notebook, some writing utensils, and a few copies of his resume that he had spent that last week updating and polishing, and he felt like a college student again, nervous and under a tremendous amount of pressure to perform well for the sake of his career. It was ridiculous, because apparently he had already made himself impressive enough to get a number of jobs, and worse comes to worst he already had a job. Would save him a conversation with Sam, at least.

(It should concern him a little that he was avoiding having tough conversations with Sam).

(Because he knew what would happen if they opened that door, and Josh wanted to pretend that things were okay for just a little while longer).

Josh had been to the Minority Leader’s office on a couple of occasions, when they were trying to communicate a vote count on particularly important bill, but usually they were just quick trips in and out. This time, he’s ushered into the chief of staff’s office, where Doug Taylor and his deputy, Jonah Harwood, are waiting to meet with him, and now Josh feels like a kid being sent to the principal’s office. Which is even more ridiculous, because he already _ knows _ what this meeting is about.

“Josh!” Jonah greeted, standing to meet him at the door. Jonah was the one Josh usually worked with in this office, so at the very least he was a comforting presence to have here. He also knew that Jonah was coordinating a lot of the election strategy on behalf of the Minority Leader, and Josh realized that he must have been the one to recommend Josh for a promotion.

“Jonah,” Josh acknowledged, shaking the other man’s hand. “Mr. Taylor.”

“Doug is fine,” Mr. Taylor told him, gesturing to the seat across from himself. Josh sat and shuffled the papers in his hands, unsure of what to do next. “So I take it you’ve been doing some thinking, Josh?”

“Yes sir,” Josh nodded. “I…policy was a great thing for me to start with, because of my background with law school. But I really want to do more on the strategy side too. The big-picture, real-change stuff that I haven’t gotten to see yet. That’s really why I want to be here. So that’s what I’m hoping, y’know, to do. In the future.”

“I agree, Josh,” Doug replied. “You’ve got the mind for this stuff, we all can see it. Which is why,” he glanced over at Jonah, who nodded, “we want to bring you into this office, effective immediately, to work with Jonah on party strategy until the election. A deputy-deputy, of sorts. And after that, well, we’re hoping for a brilliant freshman class who will need to be staffed. I was hoping you might want to lead one of those staffs?”

It was phrased like a question, but Josh knew he didn’t have much of a choice. He had wanted to advance his career and _ god _ if this wasn’t just about the biggest leap he could possibly make. He didn’t have a response, how would one even reply to something like that? He didn’t feel at all qualified or prepared to lead a whole office; he had hardly even led a _ team _ before. He wasn’t a leader. And _ Doug Taylor _ expected him to…

He couldn’t. He absolutely couldn’t. He wasn’t ready for something like that, it was way too big. What had he even been thinking, going out like this? He had a job, and that was where he belonged. An over-worked policy staffer. After all, that was always what he had wanted to do anyways. That was all he was meant to do.

“Josh? Do you have any questions?” Jonah asked after what had probably been an uncomfortably long silence.

“Y-yeah, I…no, no I’m…I’m sorry,” Josh rambled, stumbling to his feet as his brain tried desperately to keep up with the overwhelming signals shooting through it. He nearly tripped over his chair in his haste to the door. “Thank you for your time, but I’m…I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t even look behind him at what he was sure would have been the facial equivalent of his career ending as he practically sprinted from the office suite.

\--

Objectively, the rest of the day was exactly the same as any other day, but that was not at all how it felt to Josh. He felt exposed, like everyone he passed _ knew _ what had gone down in Doug Taylor’s office, and was silently judging him for being such an idiot. He already knew he was an idiot, he didn’t need the rest of the world reminding him of that too.

Mia shot him a questioning look as he slunk back towards his desk, doing his best to maintain eye contact with the floor. He had been so stupid taking a meeting like this during the workday. He’d probably even lose this job now too, and then where would he be? Jobless, Sam-less, dreamless, forced to live on the streets for the rest of his days…

He was probably being a bit dramatic.

“Where have you been?” she questioned, either not picking up on his desire to be left alone, or not caring.

“Meeting,” Josh shrugged, keeping his gaze down.

“Your boy came by looking for you,” she informed him. “I had to tell him I didn’t know where you were.”

Josh sighed. He should have at least let Sam know that he would be out of the office for a bit today, because no matter how much time they spent together outside of work the other man never lost his tendency to stop by at random times during the day out of sheer boredom. But Sam would have asked questions, and Josh would have felt obligated to answer, so at least this way he delayed that conversation a little while longer. 

And after his embarrassing behavior in the interview, he was thankful he hadn’t shared the news with anyone. Now there was nothing to tell, anyways.

“Thanks, Mia,” he dismissed, sinking back into his chair and scooting as close to his desk as possible, as if hoping to blend in with the furniture. Hopefully that way no one would talk to him for the rest of the day. Or acknowledge his existence. At least until Sam would inevitably make another appearance.

Just as Josh expected, that happened within the hour, Sam practically bouncing through the door of the office suite before noon like he had every reason to be there. His face positively lit up when he noticed Josh noticing him, and Josh rolled his eyes fondly.

“Hi!” Sam exclaimed happily.

“Hey, you,” Josh’s greeting was much more subdued, but he was certain that Sam could detect the love behind it all the same.

“Lunch?” Sam offered. Josh shook his head.

“I’m not that hungry,” Josh replied, and it was the complete truth. He felt a bit sick to his stomach, an ever-growing knot of guilt and anxiety reminding him of how badly he seemed to be screwing everything up lately.

“Let’s go for a walk then,” Sam suggested instead. Then more softly added, “Get you out of your head a bit.”

Josh allowed himself to be guided from the building, Sam’s gentle hand high enough on his hip to pass as casual, but there as an anchor for him nonetheless, and Josh fought every instinct to lean further into his lover.

“You going to tell me where you were this morning?” Sam asked, not accusatory, but genuinely curious.

“Just a meeting,” Josh brushed off.

“Sweetheart, if it was ‘just a meeting’ you would have told me about it. And the more you avoid telling me about it, the surer I am that something’s up,” Sam prodded, and sometimes Josh hated how well Sam knew him. “So spill, please?” 

It was the “please” that really got him, so soft and earnest, because Sam was _ asking _. Even after all this time, he would never demand that Josh let him into his mind. He always asked. He always left it up to Josh, and Josh had never been good at denying Sam anything.

“It was…a job interview,” he admitted with a sigh. “It didn’t go well though, so it doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it didn’t go well?” Sam stopped Josh with a tug on his sleeve. “What happened?”

Josh took a deep breath and suddenly he was explaining everything, from how stifled he was feeling in his current job, to the resumes he had been passing around, to the moment he had felt he was too far in over his head and had bolted from the Minority Leader’s office.

The emotions on Sam’s face ranged from confused to excited to sympathetic to understanding as Josh talked himself out, finally deflating with his final quiet admission of, “I just don’t think I’m good enough for more, Sammy.”

“_ Josh _,” Sam tilted his head sadly. The thumb of the hand still gripping Josh’s sleeve rubbed gentle circles on his wrist and Josh focused on the sensation, let it tether him after spending so much of the morning off in outer space. He didn’t know how he would live without this. “Baby, how could you think that?”

“Because it’s true, Sam! I mean, be honest. I’ve barely got a handle on my life as it is, how could I possibly be ready for more? And _ chief of staff _? I mean, come on, who the hell am I gonna lead?”

“You can lead whoever you want to lead, Josh,” Sam replied. “Because you’re good at _ everything _ you do. You’re smart, you’re dedicated, you’re kind, you’re everyone’s dream boss. And anyone’s dream chief of staff.”

“Don’t you think you’re a _ little _ biased?” Josh raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Of course I am,” Sam confirmed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“You are wrong, though,” Josh countered.

“I’m right, and you’re not going to convince me otherwise, baby. But I also know you’re your own worst enemy. And I hate that I don’t know how to help you with that, other than to remind you every single day how amazing and _ worthy _ you are of every single good thing that comes your way. And this is a good thing,” Sam finished quietly, blue eyes revealing his honesty.

“I know this is a good thing, Sam, I _ know _ ,” Josh huffed. “It’s too good though. I just…I don’t know how I’m going to do it.” The _ without you _ remained unspoken, and Josh didn’t know if he wanted Sam to pick up on it or not.

“Josh,” Sam tapped once on his cheek to get his attention, and Josh blushed both at the contact and at the realization that this entire exchange was taking place on the National Mall where anyone and everyone could see. Oh well, pretty soon Sam would be gone and it wouldn’t matter anyways. “How do you think _ any _ of these guys do it? You get a staff, you work with your guy, you talk to people with more experience. You’re not doing it by yourself, baby. That’s how you do it, and that’s how you’re going to do it when you go see Doug Taylor this afternoon and tell him you’ll do it.”

“That’s how I’ll…_ what? _” Josh blinked in confusion as Sam’s words sunk in. “No, no I can’t do that…I already…”

“Just go back and tell him you did some thinking and you’re accepting the position after all,” Sam instructed. “You’ll hardly be the first person to flip-flop on a job within the same day.”

“But I’m not…_ flip-flopping _,” Josh protested.

“Of course you are,” Sam replied. “It’s okay, Josh. You can do this. You really, really can. And you should. So you’re going to. Okay?”

And then quickly, so quickly that no one passing by could have possibly caught it unless they had been watching, Sam pulled Josh in by his sleeve and pressed a kiss to the very corner of his mouth. Josh didn’t have time to respond before he was gone again, and Josh felt a bit dizzy with the thrill. 

“Okay?” Sam repeated again, even softer this time. All Josh could do was dazedly nod, and Sam broke out into a grin so beautiful that Josh almost chanced another kiss, just to see what such pure happiness might taste like. He imagined it would just taste like Sam.

The knot in Josh’s stomach hadn’t let up much, but it had changed. The anxious panic had morphed into something more like anticipation and his legs carried him past Burns’ suite and into the Minority Leader’s down the hall. Sam trailed behind him, but stopped just before the threshold and let Josh go in alone. Which was probably the right call, since Josh really didn’t know how he would explain the other man’s presence without sounding needy or, well, gay.

“Josh?” Mr. Taylor looked up in confusion when Josh stepped into his office unannounced. “What are you—”

“I’d like to take the job,” Josh interrupted, determined to get everything out before he lost his nerve. “I know I don’t have as much experience as a lot of other people in similar positions but I’d like to take the months between now and November to learn as much as I can from you and Jonah, and I would like to have a role where I can really make a difference next term. It’s way more than I ever imagined I’d be doing at this point in my career and I know it won’t be easy, but I won’t be doing it alone, and I think I am the person for the job. If the offer still stands?” he added hopefully. Josh shuffled his foot, now slightly unsure about his sudden tirade. He really didn’t have any right to come back here after the way he left things this morning, and Doug could be so hard to read sometimes, it was entirely possible that—

“It’s yours,” Mr. Taylor responded simply, and Josh looked up in shock.

“I’m…sorry?”

“The position,” he clarified, sorting through some papers on his desk as though this conversation with Josh only required a fraction of his focus. “You’ll move over here in a week or so, give you some time to transition from your old office, and once we have a better handle on polling in the swing districts we can figure out where you’ll land when the time comes. Let me know if you need help smoothing things over with your boss, and Jonah should be in contact soon with details. Anything else?”

Josh stood there blinking, and it was a good thing that Doug wasn’t paying him much attention because Josh certainly didn’t look like someone prepared to lead an entire congressional office within the next six months. “N-no, sir,” he stuttered, before backing out of the office on shaky legs.

Sam was still waiting in the hallway where Josh had last seen him, leaning against the wall people-watching, as he often loved to do. He stood up straight as soon as he saw Josh approaching, that happy, expectant smile still on his face.

“Well?!” he asked, practically bouncing in place.

Josh took a deep breath. “Looks like I need to have a conversation with Congressman Burns.”

\--

Josh tried to make an appointment with the Congressman for the next morning when he finally got back to the office, but Burns waved him right in, and for not even the first time that day Josh found himself in a conversation for which he was not yet ready.

“What’s up, kid?” Burns asked, tossing him a bottle of water from the mini-fridge in his office. That was always the Congressman’s way of trying to make the environment seem casual, no small feat when one was seated across the strong wooden desk from a tall, experienced member of the House of Representatives. Burns had been around a long time by the time Josh had made it to Washington. Hell, he had been Whip before Josh was even out of undergrad. He was intimidating in that there was no mistaking the amount of influence and power he held in the party, but Josh had never felt intimidated by him before. Until now.

“Congressman, there’s…really no easy way to say this,” he began shakily, rolling the bottle of water between his hands.

“Josh,” Burns stopped him. To Josh’s surprise, his expression was more…amused than anything. “If it makes you feel any better, I think I already know what this is about. But I want to hear you say it. It’ll be good for you. So out with it.”

“Right,” Josh gulped, taking an actual sip of the water to relieve his suddenly dry throat. “Working in this office has been an incredible opportunity for me, and I’m so grateful to you and everyone else here for everything you’ve done for me. But, I’m at a point in my career where I want to do something different, and over the past few months I’ve been seeking out other opportunities.”

“You started shopping resumes around in, what, April?” Burns asked, and Josh nodded sheepishly. “Word travels fast in this town, Joshua, I don’t know how you thought it would stay a secret. But I understand you wanting to find other opportunities for yourself, and all I’ve got to say is: it’s about damn time!”

“Sir?”

“Josh, you’ve been an incredible asset to this office, but you’re too smart to be sitting at a desk drafting policy proposals or running errands all day,” Burns told him. “I knew that from the start. I never imagined you’d stick around this long, if I’m honest, and if you weren’t going to quit yourself, I’d have shoved you out the door by November anyways.”

“I-I’ve always…I didn’t want you to think—”

“Josh, I know you think very highly of me, and even if you didn’t, I know you’re loyal,” Burns cut him off. “But you’ve got more of a future here than I do. About a year from now, I’m going to be announcing my retirement, and you need to be long gone by then. Not just you. I’ve got a list, actually. But this office will survive a term without you. Now, what did Taylor offer you?” he asked, and Josh started a little at his boss’s head-on guess at where he’d been that afternoon.

“How did you—”

“Word travels fast in this town, kid,” Burns reminded him. “Besides, who do you think sent them your resume?”

Josh’s eyes went wide. “You…?

“I told you you were meant for more,” the Congressman explained. “And I didn’t do anything until I heard you were handing out resumes yourself. But I knew you wouldn’t let yourself shoot that high on your own. Now answer the question; what did he offer you?”

“He…umm…wants me to move into his office as soon as possible to work on party strategy until the midterms,” Josh answered, the faintest hint of pride entering his sheepish tone. “And then…if we turn enough seats he wants me to lead an office next term. As someone’s chief of staff.”

Burns huffed out a surprised chuckle. “God, of course he does! Hell, kid, that’s _ exactly _what you need to be doing right now. Tell me you took it?”

“I took it,” Josh gave a small smile, “eventually.”

God, what would he ever do without Sam?

“Good,” the Congressman nodded, satisfied. “It’s your time, Josh. You’ve got great things ahead of you, and if there’s ever anything you need from me, you know where to call.”

“Yes sir,” Josh confirmed, taking that as his cue to get up and leave. “And thank you, really, for everything. It’s been an honor.”

The congressman rose with him and offered a handshake before Josh stepped away. “And it’s been an absolute privilege to have you here. Now go get back to work. I’ve got you for a few more days and I intend to use you.”

“Yes sir,” Josh said again, finally making his way back to his desk. So that was that. He was really moving on.

Josh wasn’t sure how to feel about it, to be honest. To a certain extent, he appreciated security, and that was what the last three years had brought him. There was always a degree of risk and uncertainty that came with working in politics, and Josh was prepared for that, but it didn’t make it any easier to leave the thing he knew so well, the thing he knew he was good at. 

Plus, it was just another reminder of how much everything in his life was about to change. Gone would be the days of walking with Sam to the metro after work, having someone who always wanted to hear about his day, no matter how boring it had been. Someone who just _ knew _ exactly what Josh needed, before he even knew himself. Someone who made him feel like he was worth something, that he could do anything in the world. He wouldn’t be here today without Sam, Josh was sure of that. The Josh of a year ago never would have left his job on a whim like that, wouldn’t have known how to push for more, no matter how unhappy he was.

Now, he had clearer ambitions than he ever had before. He could see himself having a future. He could imagine a world beyond a cramped desk in the corner of a cramped office suite on the Hill. He could imagine himself being successful, and he might still get scared sometimes but he had learned to be okay with that too, because love was the scariest damn thing Josh had experienced in his life and he had made it through that too.

Whatever happened in the future, Sam Seaborn had changed him as a person, and Josh would never be anything other than grateful for the time they had together.

Now, he could only hope that he would make it on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have nothing to say other than thank you to everyone still reading this, and thank you to everyone whos left a comment. lily and i have one more chapter each, and then that's that. wild. enjoy the last few weeks of this crazy journey, and please continue to let us know what you think


	29. Chapter 29

**SAM**

Living with Josh was so easy that the weeks seemed to fly by. The time between rooftop kisses and his last morning waking up beside Josh was blink-and-you-miss-it. But in the pale dawn light, looking up one last time at his favorite ceiling, he thought about how much had happened in that time. 

Josh had gotten started in his new position, and came home from work even later but with more of a spring in his step. Law school textbooks were beginning to arrive. A check for his first tuition payment had bounced, leaving him convinced his parents had cut off his access to his 529. So he’d decided to withdraw all his savings before his parents could get a hold of that, too. So he’d been sleeping with every dollar to his name tucked in a box beneath their bed like some sort of paranoid old fogey whose favorite hobby was distrusting the government. He’d turned in his notice and had his last day on the Hill. It was bittersweet, but he knew in his gut it wasn’t his last day there ever, so he wasn’t able to get too sad.

So yeah, a lot had changed this month. 

But the one thing that hadn’t was waking up to Josh’s soft snores beside him. Sam looked over to where he slept and let out a soft sigh, reaching for him involuntarily. His hand found the warm dip above Josh’s collarbone and began tracing soft circles with the pads of his fingers. Josh stirred a bit with a groggy little moan before opening his eyes to meet Sam’s.

“You watching me sleep again?”

Sam nodded, “Mmm hmm!”

“Weirdo.” 

But the soft smile that followed was so warm and so perfectly just for Sam that he curled into Josh’s chest like he was being magnetically pulled there, tucking his head under Josh’s chin, pulling his knees towards his stomach. Josh shifted to put an arm around him, and kissed his hair, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric at the collar of his t-shirt to rub the back of his neck. Sam hummed into Josh’s chest and pressed himself as close as possible. This coaxed a tight, low moan from somewhere in the back of Josh’s throat that seemed to surprise them both. He looked up, and Josh was blushing at himself, so Sam readjusted to kiss Josh’s neck and let his hands travel like they did so effortlessly across Josh’s warm, soft chest, down his stomach, under his waistband, and… 

_ “Sam…” _ Josh managed through a high-pitched exhale, his head falling heavily into the pillows. 

When Sam was inside of him, it felt like everything had just clicked into place. After a long day at work, being with Josh was guaranteed to make him feel less tense. When he was riding nervous energy highs, or feeling wound up so tight he could barely sit still, or when his parents made him so upset he wanted to throw stacks of papers into the air just to watch them fall, Josh would always make his body calm down and ease back into his control. Everything else in the world was gone, and all that mattered in the entire expanse of the universe was the inches where he shared Josh’s body. Everything else was details and moving parts and tangents spinning through space at a rate he couldn’t comprehend. Tucked inside Josh was the one train of thought he could always follow. 

But perhaps even more than that, Sam loved the look on Josh’s face every time Sam entered him, the sheer relief at getting to let go, of letting Sam give him what he needed. Of not having to try so hard and think so much and carry everything so heavily on his back. And that Sam got to be the one to bring him there. Sam got to be the one to see his faces and twisted smiles and choked sounds. Sam got to be the one to see the sparks in his eyes. Sam got to be the one to put them there. 

He’d miss this. He’d miss getting to do this whenever they needed it. 

When they finished, Sam collapsed on top of him, red faced and grinning, his limbs shaky, his chest rising and falling, his fingers intertwined tightly with Josh’s where he’d pinned him back into the mattress. 

“Fuck,” they both exclaimed at the same time before falling into breathy giggles.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Sam said, rolling onto his side and reaching his knuckles to Josh’s flushed cheeks. 

Josh shook his head and mouthed his typical response, “No, you are.” 

“Yes,” Sam said deliberately, “You are.” 

Josh just sighed and closed his eyes, moving to take Sam’s hand in his and hold it to his chest. Sam watched him for a bit. He’d always wondered why Josh couldn’t see it. But now he thought maybe Josh didn’t want to see it. If Josh saw how wonderful he was, he couldn’t get away with taking such poor care of himself. Once Josh figured out that he deserved love, he’d have to love himself. 

Sam wondered if the time they’d had living together had brought him any closer to that conclusion. He hoped so.

“God Sam,” Josh whispered, not opening his eyes, “I wish this wasn’t ending.” 

“Baby…” Sam opened and closed his mouth trying to figure out what else to say. Josh opened his eyes, startled, like he’d just registered the fact that he’d said that out loud. “I wish so, too.” 

“You….” Josh tipped his head to face him and took a few heavy breaths before saying, stumbling through it like it was the hardest thing he’d ever said, “You changed my life, Sam Seaborn.”

“For the better, I hope,” Sam deflected with a giggle, and Josh tried to smile, but made a pained expression instead. So Sam placed his free hand on his face and said, “You changed mine, too.” 

“I don’t think…” Josh squeezed the hand on his chest so tight, Sam was losing circulation, “I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.” 

“Well, that’s good!” Sam laughed, “Because I’m never gonna stop loving you.” 

“Wait…” Josh blinked and sputtered, “Wait. Whu… wh-what?” 

“What do you mean ‘wait, what?’” Sam fondly rubbed his cheeks. 

“You said…” Josh’s brow tangled in confusion, “What?”

“Josh,” Sam ran a finger across a deep crease in his forehead, “What’s the matter?”

“You’re leaving!” was all Josh could blurt.

“I’m not leaving  _ you,” _ Sam cried, not able to fight back a grin.

“Wh- _ what?” _ Josh repeated.

“I’m leaving  _ D.C, _ but I’m not leaving  _ you,” _ Sam tilted his head. 

“Huh?” Josh seemed stuck. 

“We don’t have to break up just because I’m going to law school,” Sam finally exclaimed, “Unless… unless that’s what you wanted to do,” Sam blinked, he was starting to feel confused himself.

Josh was struck completely dumb. His jaw trembling open in amazement, as if he’d just started seeing color. Like he was Dorothy Gale and he wasn’t in Kansas anymore. _Christ almighty,_ _I’m gay,_ Sam thought, giggling. 

“You mean this isn’t over when I drop you off at Duke this afternoon?” Josh asked, his brow crinkled painfully as if the feat of processing this information was taking a physical toll. 

“Of course not!” Sam thought he might start singing, but found that all he could do was babble, chasing six different thought processes at once, “I mean, am I being presumptuous...I just thought we'd... if you don't want…”

“No, of course I want…. I want…” Josh stammered so helplessly that Sam  _ had _ to cut in, with “I want to be with you as long as you’ll have me. What in the world did I say that made you think I didn’t?”

“I don’t know, Sam, ‘I’m going to Duke,’” Josh said, like he still didn’t trust that this wasn’t ridiculous. 

“Josh, Josh, Josh!” Sam sat up, laughing and teary and delirious, “I chose Duke in part because it’s the very closest law school to which I applied before we started this. If I’d known we’d be together, I would have applied even closer.”

“You  _ what?!” _ Josh sat up now, raking his hands across his face. 

“Josh, I love you!” Sam grabbed his hands, “Law school isn’t going to change that. You’re not just some fling. I  _ love _ you.” 

“I love you, too,” Josh said, his voice small, his eyes searching.

“C’mere!” Sam pulled him up into a messy hug. And Josh broke into sobs that were such a mix of emotions that Sam couldn’t even begin to read them. all So he whispered and kissed his hair and stroked his back and said, “You can’t lose me  _ that _ easily _ , _ Lyman.” 

The entire morning was strange: like they were suspended in time. Like this one last morning was the last eleven months all rolled into one. They laughed, they ate breakfast, they watched the news, they cried, they made out, they had sex in the shower and Josh almost fell on his ass, so they laughed some more. 

But all too soon they were packing the last of Sam’s boxes into Josh’s car. And Sam was scanning the apartment one last time to see if there was anything he’d forgotten. 

There was nothing of Sam’s in the apartment anymore, but it wasn’t the same place Josh had given him his spare key to all those months ago. It was not just tidier, but it no longer just felt like a place for Josh to sleep and store his things. It felt like a place for Josh to live. Picturing him here by himself wasn’t quite as hard now that he felt like pieces of his life were coming together. His days were going to be so full while he was gone, and he’d come back to a home, even if Sam wasn’t there all the time anymore.

Because his heart would still be right here. All the time. 

“You ready?” Josh asked in the doorway, eyes puffy, but his face a bit more relaxed now than this morning, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, the sleeves of his Carter/Mondale shirt cuffed on his biceps. 

Sam shook his head, but walked towards him anyway. Their hands linked automatically, and Josh squeezed his at the same moment he squeezed Josh’s. 

He was going to miss this. But he had an even stronger notion that he’d be back here soon, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it from me, folks! One more chapter from SM and then that's a wrap for this disaster of a projection project over a year in the making. We've loved having you come along with us on this ride and welcome to those who are just now finding it as the fandom ebbs and flows. To express similar sentiment as Sam, this probably isn't the last we'll dabble in this timeline together.
> 
> Be sure to watch this space for the LAST CHAPTER coming soon!!! 
> 
> In the meantime, we both have oodles of SamJosh fics to dig your teeth into in and out of this universe. Tell us what you think! 
> 
> Until next time!  
-LP


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was almost on time with this one, and then i forgot, so here it is. last one. honestly, this is long enough to be two or three chapters, but you're getting it all at once. enjoy it. savor it. cherish it. because This Is It.

**JOSH**

Today was the day Josh had been dreading for months.

In some ways, it felt even worse than he had anticipated, knowing that this would be the last time he could be with Sam like this for a long time. Every single time felt new and exhilarating, and if he wasn’t experiencing it for himself Josh didn’t think he could imagine anything feeling this good. He needed Sam like he needed air, but it was more than that. He needed Sam like he needed…a warm coat in the winter, or a cold glass of ice water after being outside on a hot day. Comforting, healing, vital.

It was like being high (something that Josh had only experienced a couple times in undergrad, but remembered vividly enough to make the comparison), soaring above his body and warm all over, delirious in the best way. He felt not like a different person, but like the absolute best version of himself. The most himself, actually. His thoughts couldn’t quite follow a coherent path in these moments, but his mind never felt clearer. This was absolutely where he was supposed to be, in Sam’s arms, in Sam’s  _ life _ . It was his destiny, somehow, to love Sam for the rest of his days. They had been brought together by forces greater than either of them; that was the only way Josh could explain experiencing something so…ethereal. 

Tears had pricked at the back of his eyes as Sam held him, and Josh had wanted to meld their bodies together. It was just so much _better_ this way; they were _better_ _together_. _Whole_. More important than the high was the _steadiness_. He was home. _Sam_ was home. They were each other’s homes and Josh knew that nothing would ever feel quite right again.

Even the knowledge that Sam didn’t intend for them to break up only assuaged him so much. Sam loving him had never been the question, as far as Josh was concerned. He was glad they weren’t going to split the very second he got back in his car and drove away, but. Sam couldn’t predict the future. Neither of them could. And with two hundred and fifty-eight miles separating them there was no telling what might happen. It wouldn’t be either of their faults, but it was a reality Josh still saw, beyond Sam’s blind optimism that the fact that they love each other would be enough to overcome anything else. There was absolutely no guarantee.

And so despite repeated assurances from Sam that him going away to school by  _ no _ means marked the end of their time together, Josh wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow himself to be assured. Sam was leaving. Sam loving him didn’t change that fact.

He wished they could have stayed in bed forever, because the two of them like that felt normal.  _ Right _ . But pretty soon Sam was dragging him up to get ready and finish loading the car, so that they could be in Durham by early afternoon. So he got up and did his best to pretend that he was okay, because Sam was the one moving to another state for law school, and Josh knew firsthand just how terrifying law school could be. Sam needed him today, and if this was going to be the last thing he did for Sam, he would be damn sure to do it right.

He took his shower as his time for himself, feeling every emotion he intended to bottle for the rest of the day. They had tried a shared shower, but after the near-catastrophe that round two had been, Sam had stepped out and Josh had taken a few moments to brace himself. And to get used to his showers being a bit more lonely. If he shed a few tears at the lack of Sam’s arms around him, well, he would get it together by the time he had to face the world again.

They held hands the entire way down to the car, only separating when they left the relative cover of the building—Josh occasionally wondered if his neighbors noticed the extra presence in his apartment these days, and he wondered what they thought about it, but at the end of the day he didn’t really  _ know _ anyone in his building, so what if someone saw him and Sam walking a little too close together from time to time?—and Sam gave him a sad smile, sliding into the passenger seat.

They usually said they would switch off driving on the occasions they had taken longer trips like this, but Josh really didn’t mind driving and Sam was a slightly better navigator than him, and Josh really, really loved the feeling of Sam’s hand rubbing at the base of his neck whenever he started to get frustrated. So maybe he’d milk this situation for as long as he could.

“Do you know any road trip games?” Sam asked as soon as they made it out of the city.

“Yeah, it’s called ‘paying attention to the road and making sure we don’t crash,’” Josh snarked fondly, knocking his head against Sam’s outstretched arm that had already made its way to the back of Josh’s seat.

“Come on, you’re no fun,” Sam pouted. “It’s a long trip!”

“It’s shorter than the drive to Connecticut and you didn’t feel the need to play  _ I Spy _ then,” Josh pointed out.

Sam sighed. “I know. You’re right. Sorry.” He shifted his gaze slightly out the passenger window, and Josh let his eyes wander from the road for just a moment to take in the tense set of Sam’s face. An expression familiar to Josh from discussions about things like Sam’s parents, or a draft of a press release that Sam had to send off before he was quite satisfied with it, or that time all the way back in December when the Christmas Eve snow had fallen so hard that the entire outside was blanketed white, a shock for someone used to summer even in the winter months, no matter how many years he had spent in the Northeast. 

Sam was nervous, and Josh had already known that, of course, but he wasn’t just  _ first-day-at-a-new-school  _ nervous, he was  _ what-the-hell-have-I-gotten-myself-into? _ nervous and Josh felt deeply for him. What Sam was doing, it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy on either of them, but Sam was the one packing up and moving to a completely new environment. Josh would be in his same apartment (though lifeless, without the one who had turned it from a place of residence to a  _ home _ ), he would be working in the same building with people he knew, he’d take the same train to and from work every day and he’d eat at the same restaurants and go to the same bars and while nothing would be quite the same without Sam by his side, it would be, for all intents and purposes, the same. 

Sam had none of that. Sam had new roommates whom he had barely met, he had new classes with new professors on new topics that Josh was sure would come easily to him, but would absolutely wreck his brain for the next three years nonetheless. He would have to find new restaurants and new bars and a new job to pay for his tuition and rent and new friends and if it were Josh, well, Josh would probably be curled in a ball on the floor somewhere right about now, so he had to give Sam a great deal of credit.

The very least he could do was take his mind off things for a little while.

“How about we name countries back and forth, no repeating, and whoever goes the longest wins,” Josh suggested, knowing full well that Sam could absolutely blow him out of the water at this game, but willing to take a blow to his ego if it meant Sam enjoyed the trip a little bit more.

Their first task in this game, whenever they played, was to see who would first resort to naming the United States, as they both viewed that as the “easy way out.” They preferred to name the most obscure countries they could think of, one-upping each other with pacific island nations and sub-Saharan Africa and Eastern Europe until Josh finally had to surrender.

They had first played this months ago, when Josh had caught Sam skimming through his Atlas one morning, brow furrowed in concentration as he studied the image on the page. Josh couldn’t remember exactly which region Sam had been working on at that particular moment, but he had admitted to Josh that he was just intrigued by the world, and was trying to learn the names of as many countries as he could. Josh had admitted to him that he had tried the same thing at one point, sometime during undergrad when an international relations class had sparked his interest enough to make him question if law school was truly the only path he could take. What ensued had been three months of avid studying, reading up on as much geopolitical trivia as he could possibly consume, and flipping through this very atlas cover to cover almost daily, trying to absorb its contents. Then his next international relations class had been much harder than his first and Josh lost interest and had barely picked up the book since, but he still remembered quite a bit. Nowhere near as much as Sam had managed to pick up just over the past few months, but at least enough to hold his own for a while.

Sam’s intelligence was sexy, plain and simple. Josh had been attracted to his mind long before he had realized that he was attracted to…other parts of him, and Josh knew that at the end of the day, that was what he would miss the most. Because even if they had never entered into a romantic relationship, Sam would still be the most important person in his life. His best friend. His partner, in absolutely every sense of the word. Sam could make him smile like no one else could, just by doing something like correcting his pronunciation of Burkina Faso. It was possible Josh intentionally mispronounced a few names just to make him do exactly that.

He took a hand off the steering wheel and reached behind him to grab Sam’s hand from the back of his seat and gave it a little squeeze. He brought it to the console between them, smiling softly, letting his eyes glance ever so quickly at the happy flush on Sam’s cheeks, then glancing over again just because he could.

“Hey, eyes on the road!” Sam exclaimed when he noticed Josh looking at him, but Josh just rolled his eyes in response, lifting Sam’s hand to kiss his knuckles.

“Does this mean I win?” he asked with a smug grin when Sam got distracted staring at him instead of naming another country.

Sam cleared his head with a few quick blinks, but then softened. “Yeah baby, I’ll let you have this round,” he surrendered.

“What! No you don’t get to just give up!” Josh whined. “If you can think of more you have to name them! Those are the  _ rules _ !”

“First of all, there are absolutely  _ no _ rules to this, seeing as how we literally invented this game ourselves,” Sam corrected. “And I’m just…I dunno, I don’t think my brain has fully turned on yet.” He tried to make it sound light, Josh could tell, but it hurt him deep in his chest to see Sam so off. Sam was the strong one, it was Josh’s job to have bad days. Sam should never doubt himself, he was absolutely perfect in every way. There was  _ nothing _ he couldn’t do, and Josh told him that.

“No, no I know,” Sam replied, his voice a bit tight. “It’s…I’m nervous for school and everything, of course, but I’ve done that before. Like, that’s not…” He sighed, pulling his hand away from Josh’s to rub his face, so Josh placed his hand on Sam’s thigh instead. “I guess it just kinda hit me that…when you get back in the car today, that I’m not going to see you tomorrow. I know that sounds stupid, because we’ve  _ known _ that, but when you’re next to me it’s hard to imagine that you ever won’t be. But now…” he let out a watery laugh and Josh was about ten seconds from pulling the car over and pulling Sam into his lap, and possibly just staying there forever. “I’m sorry, I know it’s stupid. I’m just going to miss you so, so terribly much.”

“Baby,” Josh whispered, seeking Sam’s hand again and pulling it to his chest when he found it. “That’s not stupid. I’m…going to go crazy with how much I’ll miss you. Like, do you see me actually going the speed limit? That’s how badly I want to make every second with you last, I’m willing to be one of those obnoxious drivers who clearly has no place to be!” That made Sam giggle a bit and Josh turned his head to make eye contact, just quickly enough so that Sam could see his eyes and he could see Sam’s. It was an anchor for the two of them, because Josh knew that no one could look at him and see more of him than Sam could, and vice versa. They could communicate entire passages with just their eyes. He hoped Sam would send him pictures from time to time, just so Josh could look into them even from miles away.

Sam was quiet, uncharacteristically so, and Josh tried to engage him in conversation a few times but all he offered were a few short answers and shrugs and Josh was at a bit of a loss. He wasn’t the best conversationalist, he didn’t know how to fill long silences. That was usually Sam’s role. Sam could chat the entire way there, and Josh could focus on the road, and they could hold hands or Sam could rub the back of his neck and it was  _ comfortable _ . This was…not exactly uncomfortable, but Josh didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t know what there possibly was  _ to _ say that could make this any easier.

So they rode in silence for a bit, and Josh kept shooting little worried glances in Sam’s direction, but the other man just kept looking out the window. His lips were moving, like he was talking to himself. Giving himself a pep talk maybe? Whatever it was, Josh just hoped he was being kind to himself. Sam deserved that.

Josh squeezed his hand.

\--

It was early enough in the month that campus wasn’t too crowded yet. Undergrads wouldn’t move into the dorms for a few more weeks so it was just a slow trickle of people moving into apartments, and Josh easily found a space in front of the building that Sam directed him towards, voice completely devoid of emotion as he navigated. He turned off the car and they just sat there, the silence from the drive somehow even heavier now that they weren’t moving.

“So,” Josh finally tried, “are you ready?”

Sam’s whispered response came so quietly that Josh almost missed it.

“No.”

“Sweetheart,” Josh sighed sadly, unbuckling so he could turn to face Sam fully. Sam was staring intently at his hands, clenching his fists in his lap. Josh could tell his jaw was trembling a little, and wanted so badly to hold him. So he reached across the console to take Sam’s face in his hands and press their foreheads together. “Baby, I’m right here, okay? We’re gonna start carrying things upstairs, that’s all. Just unpack the car. Can you help me do that?”

Sam nodded, and Josh chanced a kiss on his nose, because Sam needed it and he needed it too. Seeing Sam get emotional always struck Josh like a blow to his chest. Sam was so  _ strong _ . Josh wanted to make everything better for him, but he had no clue how, and that hurt even worse.

They pulled apart after another beat in each other’s space, and Sam rubbed his hands down his face again with a sigh. Josh popped the trunk and met Sam around the back.

“Josh?” Sam asked as soon as they were standing next to each other. Josh was about to respond when Sam grabbed him around the waist and pulled him in close, tucking his head into Josh’s shoulder. He inhaled deeply and Josh melted, squeezing Sam as close to himself as possible and mumbling what he hoped were soothing sounds. They stood there for a long time, multiple minutes for sure, just holding each other like it was the last time. Because it was pretty damn close.

Finally, Sam pulled away again and grabbed a suitcase in each hand while Josh grabbed the box of kitchen stuff and followed him up to his unit on the fourth floor. The unit came partially furnished, so all they would need to do would be get Sam’s bed from the storage unit he had been renting for the last month. Josh volunteered to do that while Sam started organizing the rest of his things in his room, and while neither of them wanted to be apart for even a second at this point, it was really in their best interest to divide and conquer.

It was a quick trip, fortunately, and when Josh got back he called Sam down to help him carry the mattress and box spring upstairs. They giggled when Sam accidentally walked into the doorframe on the way into the building, and Josh almost tripped up the stairs and dragged them both down and they had to stop a couple times to catch their breaths.

“You are _ so _ bad at this!” Sam complained.

“You’re leading!” Josh retorted. “If anything, this just means you’re bad at leading and this is all your fault!”

“I can’t control if you’re tripping over your own stupid feet!”

“You have stupid feet,” Josh grumbled.

“Oh, is that right?” Sam smirked (Josh couldn’t actually see his face but he  _ knew _ what a smirking Sam sounded like and this was it).

“No,” Josh admitted. “You have cute feet.”

“Damn right I do,” Sam confirmed, and pressed onwards. They finally made it up to Sam’s floor, huffing and whining and laughing like children. They got the bed set up and Josh collapsed on top of it before Sam could even start looking for the sheets.

“Baby, if you’re not going to help, can you at least not be in the way?” Sam asked patiently.

“I’m not in the way,” Josh protested, “and I have been  _ nothing _ but helpful all day, for your information. I have earned a nap.”

“You can’t nap until there are sheets on the bed, though!”

“I mean, you  _ can _ …” Josh argued, but rolled off the bed and onto the floor.

Sam rolled his eyes, but set about getting the sheets seamlessly in place. It was the same set of sheets that had been on his bed back in D.C., and it made Josh a little sad again to see such a familiar thing in such an unfamiliar room. 

Once the sheets were on, though, Sam collapsed on the bed—kicking his shoes off first, of course—and reached his hands towards Josh, an invitation to cuddle which Josh readily accepted. He kicked off his own shoes and curled into the space between his arms, head tucked into Sam’s chest. They relaxed at nearly the exact same moment, the familiar source of comfort allowing them to forget everything except the two of them. It was always best when they could do that.

Sam had just started pressing giggly kisses to the side of Josh’s face when they heard a door slam out in the common area and Josh immediately tensed again, expecting Sam to roll away, but he was completely undeterred.

“Sammy, baby, I think one of your roommates is here,” Josh informed him, trying to put some distance between them.

“So?” Sam asked, continuing to kiss wherever he could reach.

“You don’t want…what if someone tries to come in here?”

“Then they’ll see me cuddling and kissing the man I love,” Sam responded, as if that was such an obvious conclusion.

“What?”

“I already told my roommates about you, baby,” Sam told him softly. “I couldn’t have lived with anyone who wasn’t okay with it, because it’s important to me that you’re able to visit. I’ve…spent so much time hiding. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“Sam,” Josh whispered, tears springing to his eyes once more. 

“I know you don’t want to be out in Washington, and I understand and I agree with you, but down here…I’m not planning on running through campus with a rainbow flag anytime soon, but I really do want to tell the people I’m close to. I hope you don’t mind?”

Josh was very good at thinking in extremes. Either a piece of legislation passed, or it failed. Either a candidate got elected, or they didn’t. Either he came out, or spent the rest of his life in the closet. It had honestly never occurred to them that they could find a middle ground somewhere. He had told his parents, and that was a start. There was always the chance…Josh could count on one hand the people he trusted, but coming out to just those people didn’t seem  _ completely _ outrageous.

And Sam seemed so  _ hopeful _ at the prospect of being free. Sometimes Josh forgot that this wasn’t exactly new to Sam. Sam might not have been in love before, but he had been with other men. He had had friends in college that also slept with other men. He had told people, back then, and agreed to keep his sexuality more covert for Josh’s sake. After everything that had gone down with Sam’s parents, though, Josh thought he deserved this. He deserved to be free and loved and accepted for exactly who he is, and there was absolutely no way Josh would stop him from having that.

“Of course I don’t mind, baby,” Josh assured him, stretching his neck to plant a kiss on Sam’s lips. “God, you’re so brave, Sam, you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met in my life. I am…completely in awe of you,” Josh finished with a whisper.

“Josh…I’m absolutely none of that without you, please don’t forget that,” Sam practically pleaded. “Every single thing you just said? Goes both ways. I love you  _ so _ much, baby.”

“I love you,” Josh replied softly, and this time they let their kisses heat up a little. Nothing that would lead anywhere, necessarily, but just enough that Josh’s brain could get funneled to that one mission and not have to think about the mere hours they had left together.

They came up for air eventually, slightly flushed and Sam’s lips were very obviously bitten red. Josh would be embarrassed doing anything like this even remotely close to other people, but Sam was  _ so _ relaxed, like this was exactly what he wanted to be doing right now, that Josh had no choice but to feel very okay about it too.

“You should probably get going soon if you want to make it back before late,” Sam finally gave in, his face returning to the resigned sadness that he had been displaying earlier in the car.

“I know,” Josh sighed, no more thrilled by this reality than Sam. It was already approaching dinnertime, and while they would probably have a few more hours of daylight Josh didn’t really want to drive into D.C. after nine or ten. He started to roll over, but Sam just rolled with him, onto Josh’s chest, and gave him a stupid grin when Josh raised his eyebrows in question. 

“Or you could just stay?” he suggested, and Josh also liked that idea much better, so he pulled Sam into another unhurried kiss.

\--

Getting one extra night together left both boys feeling much more refreshed and at peace than they had the day before. The curtains kept the room dark long after the sun rose, and Josh contemplated maybe getting something like that for his own room (which Sam had already suggested on multiple occasions, of course, but Josh was slow) as they took their time waking up, trading lazy kisses and touches and smiling softly. Josh loved getting to see Sam wake up. Usually the other man was awake long before he was, and was already waiting by the time Josh opened his eyes, but some days when Sam allowed himself a little extra rest, the two of them would greet the world together, and Josh got to see his love at his softest, usually perfect hair still a mess from the pillow and bright blue eyes blurry with sleep. He was absolutely beautiful, Josh wished he could take a picture.

“How about you just move in here,” Sam suggested with a yawn, nuzzling closer and stroking gentle circles on Josh’s chest, “that way you never have to leave.”

“I’d really love that, you know I would,” Josh whispered softly, “but I’ve kinda got a job back in Washington that  _ someone _ made me sign on for.”

“That person is stupid,” Sam grumbled childishly.

“He certainly can be,” Josh confirmed, and Sam slapped at his shoulder. “Food?’

Sam grunted but finally started to sit up, rubbing at his eyes and it took everything Josh had not to pull him right back down again to just sleep through the next three years. Josh hadn’t brought a change of clothes, since he hadn’t planned on staying the night, so he pulled on his jeans from yesterday and searched through Sam’s newly organized dresser until he found an old Princeton t-shirt—one that was just a little big on Sam and fit Josh perfectly—and pulled that on too.

Sam shot him a look. “That’s mine.”

Josh shrugged. “I know. It’s mine now.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but he smiled and pulled Josh in by the front of said shirt to kiss him, so Josh didn’t think he really minded that much. “Gonna have to get you a Duke shirt now,” Sam told him.

“Nah, I’ll just keep stealing yours.”

“You are infuriating.”

“You love me.”

“So,  _ so _ much,” Sam agreed, and Josh kissed him again.

They were in less of a rush today; Josh should have more than enough time to make it back to D.C. in time for work tomorrow, especially driving the way he usually did. So they walked around campus a bit, and Sam showed Josh the buildings where he’d have his classes, and the little corner store where he could quickly grab provisions for late-night study sessions, and the bookstore where he would be starting his part-time job this week. Sam really did look comfortable here, and Josh had to admit that the campus was beautiful. Sam deserved it so much, and Josh could cry with pride for this amazing human that he somehow got to call his.

After Josh bought them breakfast—though by now it was closer to lunch—they found themselves standing in front of Josh’s car again, Josh fiddling with the keys and Sam standing with his hands awkwardly in his pockets. Neither wanted to be the one to say it, but it was time.

“So…” Josh began.

“Yeah, yeah, you should…”

“Right…”

Sam breathed out a shaky laugh and shook his head, and suddenly threw his arms around Josh’s neck. “God, we’re being so silly, we’ll talk tonight.”

“And I’ll be back in a few weeks when everyone breaks for recess,” Josh confirmed, returning the hug.

“It won’t be that bad,” Sam mumbled, an assurance for both of them. “We’ll be okay.”

“Of course we will.”

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Sam said, pulling back so Josh could see his face. “And if you tell me not to, I won’t, but I’m going to kiss you goodbye, and I don’t care who sees.”

Josh swallowed but nodded and then the next second they were kissing, a real actual kiss, not the almost-accidental press of lips that Sam had surprised him with in front of the Capitol a few weeks ago, but a real, intentional kiss, like they were just any other couple getting ready to spend a few weeks apart.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

“Call me as soon as you get home,” Sam instructed, and Josh promised to do just that as he finally got back into the car. He could see Sam watching him drive away through his rearview mirror, still standing there on the curb until he was completely out of sight.

Josh had expected to cry, but he didn’t. It had been an emotional few days, few weeks really, but at this very moment, lips still tingling from their last kiss, all he could feel was peace and hope. He would call Sam tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after that and maybe that really would be enough to make it work. He turned up the radio as he merged back onto the interstate and smiled.

He might be on his way back home to Washington, but he knew his heart would always be at home here with Sam, and that helped more than he ever thought it would.

The rest of the day was a blur of traffic and frustration and phone calls and phone sex and reading memos he had put off last week and finally collapsing into bed after midnight, alarm set bright and early so he could get a head start on the week.

Josh had come to the realization over the past few weeks that he was far from the only workaholic in Washington, and Sam and Mia were entirely too hard on him for keeping weird hours. The Minority Leader’s suite was about half full when Josh got there shortly after six that morning, and this time everyone looked up and greeted him as he walked over to his little desk in the corner, no bigger or smaller than his one in Burns’ office had been, just different. Whereas that one had felt like a prison, this one felt like a life raft. Something to take him to what came next. Sort of like Sam, in a way.

Somehow, he had expected the office to be stuffy, maybe because leadership was such serious work, maybe because it had been a rough term for the Democrats and a lot of the blame would fall on this office, but you wouldn’t be able to tell any of this by the staff working here. It was young and vibrant, a complete flip from the small group he had been a part of down the hall. People went out for drinks after work, they said hello to each other in the hallways, they ordered lunches for the office on particularly busy days where there wasn’t time for anyone to go on breaks. They were more like a community than colleagues, and it made Josh think about how he could make sure his own office carried that exact same camaraderie when he eventually moved into a chief of staff role.

All day, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about Sam, and that kiss, and  _ I’ve spent so much time hiding I don’t want to do that anymore  _ and his legs were moving before he even consciously remembered making a decision, carrying him back to the place he had spent more hours than anywhere else for the past few years, confidence a bit shaky but very much there, somehow.

Maybe Sam had left his heart here with Josh, too. That would explain it.

He let out a sigh of relief at the shock of red hair sitting behind the front desk like always, long fingernails tapping on the keyboard with an efficiency that Josh would never possess. Mia looked up when he entered, and immediately stood to hug him.

“Hey there, big shot!” she greeted happily. “What brings you slumming it with us common folk?”

“Wanted to take you to lunch,” Josh explained, “if you’ve got some time? Haven’t seen you in a while, it feels like.”

“For you Josh, nothing but time,” she agreed, and they headed down to the cafeteria to grab sandwiches. Josh led them outside, both wanting to enjoy the summer weather while it lasted and wanting as much privacy as possible for them to talk. Mia told him about the guy Burns had hired to work on policy, some kid about Sam’s age, fresh out of undergrad and desperate for any job he could get.

“I don’t think he’ll be here long,” she confided. “He’s scared out of his mind and in over his head and really doesn’t have the experience to work on policy. We just needed someone quickly so there’s time to do a real search for next term. God, are all new grads so jumpy? I don’t remember your boy doing quite so much rushing around but he might have just been special.”

Sam was special alright.

“Hey, umm, speaking of Sam…” Josh began, taking the opening. Mia’s face lit up knowingly, and Josh realized that she of all people probably did know. She had been there since the very beginning. She had watched them interact all year and talked with them and given them restaurant recommendations when Sam had wanted to switch it up and now that he thought about it, there was absolutely no way she  _ didn’t _ know, and he actually felt kind of silly for thinking they had been so stealthy, but he still needed to say it. “I know this is a bit…out of the blue, and probably not a big thing, but I just want to get used to saying the words just in case, and you’re kind of one of my only friends here, now that Sam’s gone, and—”

“Josh,” she cut him off, snapping his brain back to its original mission.

“Right, right,” he nodded, swallowing. “Sam and I were…together. Are. We are together. We’ve been together since January, and we didn’t tell anyone here, because, well, yeah. But he’s already come out to his roommates at school and I realized that having the people I trust know about this part of me could be really good, so…yeah…” he trailed off with a shrug. “I’m gay.”

Mia was quiet for a moment, chewing her sandwich thoughtfully as she decided how to respond. Finally, she put her lunch down and brushed the crumbs from her hands as she swallowed. 

“I’m going to hug you again, okay?” she warned, and her arms were around him before Josh could even begin to respond. It was nothing like hugging Sam (boobs were…weird, and Josh wondered how he had ever thought himself to be straight given that observation), but it was comforting nonetheless, and Josh realized that he was shaking with relief. “I’m so, so proud of you, okay?” she whispered, pulling apart again. “So proud of you. Thank you for telling me.”

“You already knew, though,” Josh guessed.

Mia rolled her eyes. “Of course I already knew, dumbass,” she huffed, “you’ve seen the way you look at each other, right? And the way you talk about each other? And anyways, Sam basically came out to me like the second time he was in there trying to make you be his friend. He was pretty stupid about you, to be honest.”

Josh should want to process that information, and later he probably would, but right now he just laughed. Open and happy and relieved and honest and free. A year ago, six months ago, even a few weeks ago, Josh could never have imagined feeling so comfortable letting anyone into his life like this, but it felt so  _ good _ . It felt good to trust people. It felt good to have people see him for who he really is. He just felt…free.

“And if you’re interested,” she continued, “you know, in the market for new friends since your boy decided to go be a fancy law student somewhere else, there’s a whole group of us. People to go out for drinks sometimes after work, marathon old movies while drinking wine, that sort of stuff. We’ve gotta stick together, you know.”

Josh blinked in confusion as he ran all  _ that _ over in his mind. “Wait…you’re…”

“Yes, Josh, I’m gay,” Mia huffed, rolling her eyes. “man, you really are dumb.”

“I’m not…what?”

“Did you really think you and Sam would be the only LGBT people in all of Washington?”

“N-no, but…”

“Oh my god, move past it,” she instructed, exasperated. She stood up. “I should get back to work, but you know where to find me if you need anything, and I know where to find you when I want to drag your ass out to be social from time to time.”

“O-kay…” Josh nodded slowly, standing as well.

“Hey,” she stopped him with another quick hug, “I mean it. I’m so proud of you, kiddo.”

Josh nodded into her shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For, y’know, everything.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, and the two of them headed back towards their respective offices.

Josh had a bounce in his step when he entered the office suite this time, feeling lighter than he had in such a long time. 

“There’s a message for you on your desk,” the receptionist for the Minority Leader, Michelle, informed him. She was the opposite of Mia in almost every way, but she was sweet all the same. She was like a mother to the staffers, Josh could tell, and it made the entire room more comfortable just having her steady presence there.

“Thank you ma’am,” Josh acknowledged, grinning at her eye roll at being called “ma’am”.

The note on his desk had been typed, so likely someone had dropped it off while he was out, rather than a phone message left for him. It gave him a sense of déjà vu, and he remembered a time almost a year ago exactly when Mia had delivered similar news, that some kid from Congresswoman Levy’s office wanted to see him about something. Some kid. If only he’d known.

He started skimming the note and a laugh bubbled up in his chest and tears sprung to his eyes at just how…fitting it all was.

_ Mr. Lyman _

_ My name is David Grimshaw, and I serve as Chief of Staff to Senator Howard Stackhouse. The Senator is hoping to retain chair of the Committee of Environment and Public Works in January, and has come across some memos you wrote last year detailing the need for better legislation regarding wildlife protection and endangered species. He strongly agrees and would love to work with you and the Minority Leader on making the Endangered Species Act a priority for the committee next term. Feel free to reach out to me with any questions, and I’ll be in touch within the next week as we start to put together our strategy. _

_ Congratulations on the well-deserved promotion, and I look forward to working together. _

_ David Grimshaw _

Josh had to blink a few times to get his vision to clear enough to read it all the way through. Somehow, after everything that had happened he had almost forgotten about Sam’s stupid pet project to save the cranes in New Mexico. It seemed like that had been ages ago, and Josh was certainly a different person now than he had been back then. In so many ways. And now he had a role in the Minority Leader’s office, was slated to become chief of staff of a congressional office in just a few months, and had a member of Senate leadership reaching out to  _ him specifically _ to work on environmental legislation.

Things really had come full circle.

It came as no surprise, really, just how much of an impact Sam had made on all areas of his life, but every so often Josh was just hit with awe at how much this one person had completely changed his world. Sam was the light he had needed to dig himself out of the pit he had fallen into. Sam was the cooling breeze to ground him in reality. Sam had taught him how to be happy, how to not be afraid, how to maybe start to love himself a little bit. 

Josh couldn’t even begin to count the number of ways that Sam had changed his life—saved it, really—for the better, couldn’t begin to articulate just how grateful he would always be for everything the other man had done for him.

He knew he wasn’t the easiest to like, at times. He could be grumpy, obstinate, whiny, morose, and high-maintenance, and usually that was just on a good day, but Sam had not once wavered. No matter how hard Josh had tried to push, at various times, Sam had just pushed back even harder, until their lives had become so entwined that Josh could hardly remember anything about himself that didn’t have to do with Sam. Sam was his everything, and every day, Josh would strive to find new ways to show him that. Because even two hundred and fifty-eight miles apart, Josh loved him.

It wasn’t going to be easy. Josh remembered law school. He remembered going days without talking to his friends or parents, he remembered showing up at home on some weekends so desperate for a hug and a home-cooked meal that he was on the verge of tears. He remembered staying up all night at least twice a month to prepare for an exam, and then downing strong coffee like water in order to get through the next day. Sam would be busy, and stressed, and all the way back in Washington there was only so much Josh could do to help him. 

And it wasn’t much, but Josh hoped that using this opportunity to make a real change to something Sam felt strongly about would provide the other man the extra push he needed to make it back here in a few years, where they could go back to making a difference  _ together _ , the way Josh was sure they were always meant to.

Sam Seaborn was going to change the world one day, and Josh considered himself the luckiest guy to ever live that he had the chance to be a part of it.

He wouldn’t let Sam down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. okay. wow. thank you so much to everyone whos come on this journey with us, to everyone whos left comments and kudos along the way, and to those who will (hopefully) stumble across this fic and do so in the future. whether youve been here since our first chapter last september, or if you just recently joined us, i hope you enjoyed reading it just as much as we enjoyed writing it.
> 
> to my incredible co-author: we did a thing! we set out almost 18 months ago to write a cute little samjosh fic with lots of self-projection and boy did we ever. thank you for helping me become a better writer, and thank you for being my best friend. i love you endlessly
> 
> please continue to let us know what you think! as LP mentioned in her last note, we might not be done with these boys quite yet....

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for coming along on this ride with us! 
> 
> We will be posting chapters most Tuesdays for the next year. So subscribe to this story to stay afloat. You can also follow us on Twitter at @Lily_Padd_23 and @spn_mondler for updates about the story and other fandom stuff.  
We love comments, and would also absolutely adore to see any fanart, fics, moodboards, or other stuff you create about these characters in or outside of our little universe! Just send it our way! 
> 
> -LP and SM


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